The Effects Of Wishful Thinking
by Starway Man
Summary: Darla is the vampire with the soul, not Angelus. Xander was raised in Los Angeles, not in Sunnydale. A somewhat different take on BtVS season 2? You betcha. COMPLETE
1. Of Wishes And Birthdays

**Date written: **10 Mar 2011

**Author:** Starway Man

**Email: **theop at hotkey dot net dot au

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything to do with Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel; Joss et al. owns all of that. Those parts of this story taken from the Buffy movie and TV show episodes belong to the various writers in question. Cyril Lasher is from the BtVS novel, "These Our Actors", and so belongs to Dori Kogler and Ashley McConnell. The Tobaic Ritual of Destruction is from the BtVS novel, "Carnival Of Souls", and belongs to Nancy Holder. All references to the "Three Amigos" movie belong to Lorne Michaels, Steve Martin, Randy Newman, HBO Films and Orion Pictures. Everything else you recognize belongs to their individual owners. I get nothing by writing this, except maybe some kind words of encouragement and a few cheers...well, at least hopefully.

**Warnings:** Character death, some violence, bad language and sexual references are present in this fanfic.

**Rating:** R

**Symbols: **" " indicate speech, ( _italics_ ) indicate thoughts, and / _**bold italics **_/ indicate translated words

**Main characters:** Xander, ensemble

**Feedback:** Yes please!

**Acknowledgments: **Thanks to Buffyworld for making available the various show transcripts. Thanks also to my beta readers, Mr. Mysterious, Greywizard and Nodakskip! The story could not have been done without you.

**Summary: **Darla is the vampire with the soul, not Angelus. Xander was raised in Los Angeles, not in Sunnydale. A somewhat different take on BtVS season 2? You betcha.

**Title:** The Effects Of Wishful Thinking

* * *

"Things fall apart, they fall so hard. You can't ever put them back the way they were."

(Tara Maclay, BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER)

D: "My soul is well past saving. Let the Devil take me if he'll have me. Either way – I die."

M: "No...you will not die. You will be reborn."

(Darla and the Master, ANGEL)

"What if the breath that kindled those grim fires

Awaked should blow them into sevenfold rage

And plunge us in the flames?"

(John Milton, PARADISE LOST)

* * *

**Part One: Of Wishes And Birthdays**

**Berner Street, London**

**March,** **1880**

Cyril Lasher was running for his life along the dark, gloomy and fog-enshrouded East End street.

Constantly looking behind him, he ran for all he was worth, occasionally stumbling only to regain his feet and push on even harder. There was no sign of the local bobbies, who were all no doubt huddled in the warmth of the local stationhouse; what need did the constabulary have to be out on a night like this? Under other circumstances, Cyril might even have applauded the policemen's actions. Only strumpets and cut-purses would be out on a night like this, or so Mr. Lasher would have previously believed.

Less than a week ago, his life had been utterly normal. Cyril had been the established suitor of Cecily Underwood, the eminently acceptable daughter of an upper-class family that had moved to London a while ago. Everyone had acknowledged his claim to her. Everyone, that is, except that bloody fool William Pratt – who'd harbored nonsensical ideas of claiming Cecily for himself. Then William had vanished after a party at the Underwood house, barely a few nights previously.

Many other party guests had subsequently followed in his footsteps, disappearing without a trace. Less than an hour ago, four male friends of Cyril whom he had shared jokes with regarding William's poetry had somehow gone missing while he'd dithered about in the carriage they'd used to travel to the theatre. Now, someone was hunting him.

Someone that could move with inhuman speed, and that had spooked his horse into running away and leaving him stranded. Cyril had known via that sense of self-preservation all humans had to some degree...someone had been watching him. Someone who wanted him dead.

As Cyril ran, stumbling and falling on occasion, his breathing became worse and his speed slower and slower. Then Lasher turned around, and saw a brown-haired acquaintance in front of him as the man just managed to skid to a stop.

"William!" Cyril shouted in relief, glad beyond measure to see a familiar face. "Thank the Lord. You've got to help me!"

"What are you talking about?" the so-called poet asked. His wardrobe was unkempt and a slight sneer was visible on his face, but Cyril was in too much of a panic to notice or to ask where William had been lately.

"There's someone after me, man! We've got to get indoors!" Cyril grabbed William by the arm and dragged him to the sidewalk. "Do you know a safe place for us to go?"

"You really are a complete vulgarian, aren't you?"

The question took Cyril by surprise as he let go of William's arm. "What?"

"I can't believe now how I actually cared about your opinion so," William seemed to muse. "What was the matter with me? And 'vulgarian', that word reminds me of Cecily far too much. I think I'll call you a...a ponce. Or a tosser. Or even a complete pillock. Has a much better ring to it, don't you think?"

Cyril was starting to calm down a bit, and so his natural arrogance reasserted itself. "Now see here, William, I'll not stand for that sort of talk! We can settle our differences regarding Cecily later, but right now-"

"Cecily," William interrupted. "She's gone, you know. Went to the Underwood house myself. Servants didn't have a ruddy clue where she'd gone off to, only that she'd said she wouldn't be coming back."

"Really?" Cyril looked surprised. "I didn't know. What with the rash of disappearances lately, it's not surprising though. I'd wager that over half our social circle is gone-"

"Into the Thames, mostly. Didn't want the bodies to be discovered, did I?"

Cyril froze, eyes wide. "What? William...what are you saying?" He started to back away.

William's face suddenly seemed to distort into that of a beast. Impossibly yellow eyes with a ridged forehead, and Cyril would swear that he could see fangs within the mouth as well. "William? Is that you?"

"William the Bloody," the male vampire sneered. "That's what you called me behind my back at that party last week, isn't it? I heard some of our old friends mention that you'd rather have a railroad spike driven through your brain than listen to my poetry.

"Well, guess what Cyril?" William asked with an animalistic growl. "Wish granted."

Lasher never even got the chance to scream as the blunt instrument penetrated his skull, and the soulless demon then sank its teeth into the dead human's jugular and drank its fill.

At that moment, the rest of William's undead 'family' came out of the shadows to observe the show. Collectively known as the Scourge of Europe, the group consisted of William's sire, Drusilla; his grandsire, Angelus; and his great-grandsire, Darla.

"I honestly can't help likin' that thing with the railroad spike," Angelus chortled in his Irish brogue, the male vampire enjoying himself as he disengaged his arm from that of his sire.

"You would," Darla smirked at her paramour. "In fact, I'm surprised you didn't come up with it yourself-"

"No, you're not, Grandmother," the insane Drusilla cut her off. "For Daddy's head is too full of you to ever emulate my precious Willy!"

"Don't call me that," Darla said grumpily, as William dropped the corpse and then ferociously kissed Drusilla with his blood-stained lips. "William? William! Enough of that, you fool! Now help Angelus with the body before someone stumbles onto us!" Darla snarled viciously.

Still grinning like a madman, William the Bloody – soon to be known as 'Spike' – grabbed Cyril's legs as Angelus grabbed his shoulders, and the four vampires quickly vanished into the night.

Not far away, two vengeance demons stood in period clothing and then turned to face each other. Had he been there, William would have recognized the human mask worn by the one called Halfrek as the visage of Cecily Underwood; but the female pair had made sure they wouldn't be seen by him or any of his 'family'.

"So what do you think?" Halfrek asked her companion.

"I don't understand," Anyanka replied in confusion, her own face looking human as well. "Why are we here, and why did you engineer all this?"

"Well, today is a very special day, remember?" Hallie replied. "It's not every decade a thousand years of service gets achieved. So happy birthday, Anyanka. Consider this my little hommage to you and your talents."

"You remembered," Anyanka said gratefully, before giving her colleague a hug. "Halfrek, I don't know what to say. Despite our little competitive thing, you really are a friend."

"Of course," the other demoness replied. "We'll always be friends, I'm sure. Anything I can ever do to help, all you have to do is ask."

It was at that point that Anyanka got suspicious. "Hang on. What are you hiding from me?"

"What do you mean?" Halfrek tried the bewildered innocence routine.

"Come on, Hallie, spill! There's more to all this than just a present for me, isn't there?" Anyanka demanded.

The other demoness gave up the act. "I should have known I couldn't fool you. Fine; the man who was courting me – courting Cecily Underwood, anyway – he had an illegitimate child who would have gotten beaten to death soon enough, as the poor thing was such a huge embarrassment to Cyril. That's why I arranged for William to...take care of the situation for me."

Anyanka shrugged, dismissing the whole thing as irrelevant. Unfortunately, however, she was wrong to do so.

Because the consequences from Halfrek's actions tonight would eventually snowball into something NO ONE was expecting.

* * *

**Borsa, Romania**

**August, 1898**

Eighteen years had passed since that night in the East End, and the illegitimate son of Cyril Lasher – someone who should have died nearly two decades ago and yet hadn't, thanks to Halfrek's machinations – prowled the streets in search of his father's murderer.

It was so ironic, on many levels. The young man's mother had fed him a load of warm manure concerning his father, almost from the day he was born; and Cyril Jr. had never known how the old man had grown to despise both him and the woman he'd used for recreational pleasure during the last days of his life.

If he had known the truth, Lasher's son wouldn't have been here; but he didn't, and so the shit was about to hit the proverbial fan.

Cyril Jr. watched as two vampires – Angelus and Darla – came down the street towards a house within which a gypsy girl was being held captive. Young, beautiful, dumb as a post, but still a favorite amongst her clan; she was a daughter of the local gypsy tribe known as the Kalderash. Still, Cyril Jr. knew nothing about her – all he knew was that two of the four vampires he sought were finally here, and that Darla was putting a blindfold on Angelus to lead him into the house and his 'birthday surprise'.

Making a decision, Cyril Jr. came out of the shadows and fired his crossbow into Angelus's back.

Dust exploded everywhere and the blindfold fell down onto the street, as somewhere upstairs a number of plans likewise disintegrated into oblivion.

"ANGELUS? NOOOO!" Darla screamed in disbelief, as her childe and lover of 145 years was erased from existence right before her eyes. Whirling around, she saw Cyril Jr. and vamped out. "Whoever you are, you're going to PAY for that!"

"I've spent most of my life memorizing your face, demon. As well as that of Angelus, Drusilla and that MONSTER called William the Bloody – the vampire who killed my father," Cyril Jr. snarled back, aiming his crossbow at her. "I know that he and his sire are here somewhere in this city. Tell me where he is, and I'll make it quick-"

"I'm right here, mate."

Too late, Cyril Jr. tried to whirl around – but he was too slow to survive what was coming. His whole life flashed before his eyes before Spike, in full game face, snapped the human's neck and fed greedily on the blood.

Then Darla's fist smashed directly into Spike's face.

"What the bloody-" Spike stammered, stars exploding before his eyes as Darla began punching him in the face again and again.

"He was MINE, you FOOL!" Darla screamed in sheer fury as Drusilla dragged Spike backwards. "DAMN YOU! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, YOU WORTHLESS BASTARD! THE NEXT CENTURY OF THAT MAN'S MISERABLE, GODFORSAKEN LIFE WAS MINE TO TURN INTO A LIVING HELL FOR WHAT HE STOLE FROM ME, AND YOU ROBBED ME OF IT!"

Darla attacked him again, leaving Spike more than a bit fearful of his continued life expectancy. "Now get the hell out of my sight, before I stake you and that crazy bitch of yours – for ever daring to bring you into our lives!"

When Spike took too long to move, Darla reiterated in a shrill scream, "GET OUT OF MY SIGHT, DAMN YOU!"

As Spike and Drusilla scrambled away from the enraged vampiress, Darla barely held herself back from following through on her threat, knowing that her pain was indeed entirely William's fault. It was his obsessive need for revenge on ALL who had taunted him as a mortal that had led the quartet to that upper-class ponce nearly twenty years ago, bringing his son to seek revenge this night.

If not for that – she would still have her darling Angelus, her lover and enduring companion, at her side. Now...now Darla felt like she had nothing. Nothing but a gift she could never deliver, and an anger she could never sate.

The 289-year-old vampiress turned around and stormed into her house and, almost without realizing what she was doing, drained her gypsy captive of blood completely as a thoroughly unsatisfactory way of letting off some steam.

* * *

**The woods near Borsa, Romania**

**Two nights later**

Darla was effectively being dragged through the dark forest, and she growled in helpless fury. The vampiress tried to dig in her heels as SOMETHING yanked her forward, forcing her to run through the woods, but to no avail. One moment she'd been about to bed down in her new lair: the next, an inexplicable compulsion had sent her plunging into the night.

( _Some bastard must have cast some sort of spell on me!_ ) The female demon howled in silent fury, raging at her helplessness and vowing to tear apart the guilty party once she got to wherever it was she was going. Nobody summoned Darla, childe of the Master himself, like some tame lapdog! Whoever was responsible for this outrage, she vowed to make them pay for it with their very lives.

At last, Darla burst forth from the trees, collapsing to her knees as the mysterious hold on her vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. Before she could get up and look for someone to kill, though, a burning sensation invaded her entire being. The pain was like nothing she'd ever experienced before and, for the first time since she was turned in 1609, Darla was truly afraid.

The next moment, her eyes glowed orange and Darla's human soul was restored.

The pain ebbed away and the blonde woman blinked, looking up. A man in odd clothing – a gypsy, even though the seventeenth century prostitute wasn't certain how she knew that – stepped forward to stare intently into her eyes.

"It hurts, yes? Good. It will hurt more." The man's calm words did nothing to offset the fury and malice clearly visible upon his face.

Darla looked around in confusion. This place was unfamiliar, and again even though she didn't know how she knew it, the blonde woman was sure that this wasn't Jamestown or even the colony of Virginia. "Where am I?"

The man glared at her. "You don't remember? Everything you've done for three centuries? In a moment, you will. The faces of everyone you've killed...our daughter's face...they will haunt you, and you will know what true suffering is."

"Three centuries...I don't..." Darla didn't understand.

But then the memories all came rushing back: that hooded priest in her room, who was actually the Master; the hard, crushing pain in her throat as he drained her and then fed her his own blood; clawing her way up through the Jamestown cemetery dirt, reborn as a creature of the night; her first victim, and all the others that had followed; alone with Liam in that Galway alley; 145 years of bliss with Angelus; losing him so abruptly and so senselessly a few nights ago; the gypsy girl that had proved to be her downfall; Darla remembered it all.

Slowly she stood up. "You – you restored my soul?" Darla said in disbelief, almost talking to herself.

"Yes. Now you will suffer, demon, as all your victims have suffered," the gypsy snarled at her.

The problem for him and the Kalderash tribe, though, was that Darla wasn't like what Angelus would have been under these circumstances. In her human life, she had seen too many atrocities committed against women; and too many men had used and abused her body to let feelings of guilt dominate Darla's thoughts now.

At that particular moment, the ensouled vampire didn't care about her legion of past victims; she just wanted revenge for what had been done to her.

By noon the next day, the authorities from Borsa had found the scattered bodies and body parts of all the gypsies the semi-crazed Darla had massacred the previous night. Only a few scattered survivors had managed to flee the holocaust; and full of hatred, they began their self-appointed duty of watching the vampire with a soul, to make sure the curse held for the rest of eternity.

* * *

**17619 White Oak Drive, Sunnydale**

**December 12th, 1983 **

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Alexander – happy birthday to you!" the crowd gathered in honor of Alexander Harris' third birthday sang, as he clumsily attempted to blow out the three flickering candles on his birthday cake.

Halfrek and Anyanka didn't care about that, though. They were here on a double-booked job; namely, Alexander's father Tony Harris. One of the girls was here for what had been done to Tony's son; the other for his wife, Jessica. Under different circumstances, of course, the two vengeance demons wouldn't have been here at all; but then the mortal world had changed a LOT since 1898, and not everything had gone according to the original plans of the Powers That Be.

"What do you say? We do this one together?" Halfrek whispered to her best friend as the crowd started to disperse away from the table.

"What did you have in mind?" Anyanka whispered back.

"Follow my lead," Hallie told her, and the two undercover demons began to subtly work on Jessica. Eventually, the foolish wife and mother uttered the W-word; and not long afterwards, the worm-like Sluggoth demon that used to be Anthony Harris started terrorizing the party.

Somehow, the house caught on fire during the rampage. As all the guests ran for it, screaming, Jessica was knocked unconscious – but no one noticed in all the confusion. The Sluggoth demon quickly grew tired of all the noise and headed underground, never to be seen in Sunnydale again; and Alexander's mother died as her house burned down around her before the fire trucks could arrive on the scene.

"Now that was entertaining! I don't think I've enjoyed myself this much since...1905, that time in Russia," Anyanka said in amusement, as both she and Halfrek watched the Harris residence burn from a secluded spot not far away.

"Oh, yes, I remember that! St. Petersburg, and that revolution you helped get started. Bloody Sunday, I think it was called? I wanted to have some fun, but you were all 'work, work, work'," Halfrek laughed. "Too bad how nearly the entire city burned down, I really liked that Winter Mansion-"

"You two have no idea just how badly you've screwed things up for everyone, do you?"

Anyanka and Halfrek morphed into demon face and whirled around, seeing a tall, silver-armored demon with spikes standing right behind them. "I beg your pardon?" Hallie demanded huffily.

"You heard me, sweet-cheeks. By the way, the name's Skip," the demon introduced himself.

"Fine; nice to meet you, 'Skip'. Now what are you talking about?" Anyanka demanded.

"Lemme tell you two a story. Once upon a time, there was a plan to bring about peace on Earth. Lotta eggs needed to get broken to make that particular omelette, sure, but still – apparently, the end woulda justified the means. But then you two go and upset the apple cart back in 1880, and now the Grandfather has been dust for eighty-five years. The Grandmother has a soul, and those two undead British idiots are making a nuisance of themselves in Europe. And most importantly – the Mother's destiny is now totally up shit creek without a paddle, thanks to your 'entertainment' just now," Skip gestured to the burning Harris residence.

"You're still not making any sense," Halfrek said in confusion, not understanding the allusions to Angelus, Darla and the little girl named Cordelia Chase. The latter being the brunette female that Alexander Harris had been destined to get involved with and betray, in order for her to move to Los Angeles and eventually give birth to a Power That Was – before she eventually died in a coma.

"So why don't you get out of here, before you find out just what a vengeance demon is really capable of?" Anyanka growled impatiently at Skip.

"Um, sweetie, it's 'justice' demon these days," Halfrek reminded her friend.

"Oh, pffft! That sounds so lame," Anyanka said, her face resuming its human mask.

"Lame or not, orders are orders," Halfrek said, her face turning human as well.

"Well, then I've just got to take it up with D'Hoffryn personally, I mean – vengeance is what I do, Halfrek. Vengeance is what I am!" Anyanka retorted.

"Honey, that is so totally not the 'in' thing to say these days-" Hallie started to say.

"Would you two just SHUT UP already?" Skip demanded in exasperation. "And by the way, your boss, Hoffy? He's dead, as of roughly two minutes ago. Finished. Gone. Kaput!"

Both Anyanka and Halfrek stared at Skip in disbelief – before they tried teleporting back to Arash'maharr, the demon dimension they called home, in order to prove him wrong. But to their further shock and horror, their demonic powers weren't working.

"Finally catching on, are you? One of the Powers That Be, it got real pissed off at you two dumb broads," Skip told Halfrek and Anyanka. "The other Powers caught wind of its plans just now, and it's gonna spend the rest of eternity locked up in total isolation, but the boss paid me in advance for some primo payback where you two are concerned. So, au revoir!"

The mercenary demon vanished, as did the two 'justice' demons. Skip reappeared in his home base to grab a bite to eat before looking for new clients; Halfrek and Anyanka, on the other hand, reappeared in a cage about twenty minutes away, screaming in agony from being burned alive.

An agony that would theoretically never end, as the female demons were immortal and the cube of hellfire had no doors or windows to escape from.

Vengeance. What goes around, comes around; not that that mattered to the newly orphaned Alexander Harris right now.

And as an interesting historical sidebar, Jessica's Wish would cause its fair share of problems; but Xander's Wish would have far more reaching consequences.

TBC...


	2. Meet 'N Greet

See Part One for Disclaimer and details. Hello all, thanks to everyone who's read and/or reviewed the story so far! Please, keep it coming. Now I know I said in the summary blurb that this was a season 2 story, and it will be, but first I need to do a little world-building. Not too much; I'm skipping a lot of the season 1 stuff, even if it will be mentioned here and there later on in the fanfic. So, let's get on with it!

* * *

**Part Two: Meet 'N Greet**

**Empire State Building, New York City**

**Late January, 1996**

The balance demon's true name wasn't something any human tongue could pronounce, at least not without the speaker suffering the mother of all migraines and losing half a quart of blood, so for convenience, he had started using the moniker 'Whistler' recently. It was simple to use and easy to remember, and what the hell – occasionally, it generated a bit of interest with the ladies as well.

Too bad how most of them were nuns, but sometimes, that was just the way the cookie crumbled.

Whistler worked directly for the Powers That Be, and they had recently given him an assignment to carry out. It was the same assignment he'd always been destined to fulfill at this point in time, but the target wasn't the one originally chosen by the Powers eons ago.

( _Just my luck how that dumb bastard didn't hit the right target, way back when. This would have been SO much easier with the other fang face,_ ) Whistler thought morosely to himself as he walked. ( _Ah, well, if wishes were horses, I'd have cleaned up at the race track last week. Time to get into character._ )

"Place has got one hell of a view, doesn't it? From what I hear, that was always important to you. It's what that guy Angelus promised you back in 1760 in order to tempt you away from that dummy calling himself the Master, right?" Whistler said with carefully calculated indifference.

Darla whirled around, tearing her gaze away from the sights of New York. She was no longer the semi-crazed vampiress who had slaughtered the Kalderash tribe a century ago – but her grip on sanity didn't look too tight right now, what with the mention of Angelus. "Who the hell are you?"

"Name's Whistler. Well, lately, it is," the balance demon shrugged. "And my advice is, enjoy the view while you still can. There's at least half a dozen apocalypses scheduled within the next seven years, so I'd start getting ready for it all going the way of the dodo if I were you."

"What are you talking about? And who ARE you?" Darla demanded. "You don't smell human to me."

"Yeah, well, that's because I'm not. Now lemme tell you a story," Whistler said, in a rather odd imitation of Skip twelve years ago. "Once upon a time, there was a vampire. And she was the meanest vampire in all the land. All the other vampires, save one, were afraid of her because she was such a – a homicidal bitch, I guess would be the best way to put it. Then one day, she's cursed by some fool gypsies who restore her soul. Perhaps not surprisingly, she slaughters them for it, and spends the next ninety years or so walking the Earth in a daze. Can't be a vampire, can't be a human. Always wondering, where does she fit in now?"

"I don't understand what you're hoping to accomplish by telling me things that I already know," Darla shot back in annoyance.

"Basically, recruit you as a Champion for the Powers That Be," Whistler shrugged.

"WHAT?" Darla demanded.

"Come on, blondie, think – why else would I be here? I mean, the balance sheet isn't exactly in your favor after everything you've done over the last four hundred years – soul or otherwise. Unless you wanna suffer perpetual torment when one of those apocalypses I mentioned happens, you'll listen to the rest of what I have to say-"

Darla scoffed as she interrupted, "Oh, please. Did you think I was completely ignorant of your so-called Powers That Be? From what I've heard, they don't give a damn about anything except themselves and their so-called balance. Plus, for the record, it was the demon inside me that did all that – well, apart from those damned Romany, of course."

Whistler frowned. "The Powers are offering you a chance here..."

"To be a pawn of theirs? Thanks, but no thanks."

"No, to save this world you just so happen to like so much. You don't seem to get it; everything I said before is going to happen. The wheels are already turning on this..." Whistler trailed off, seeing Darla's expression and deciding to try a different tack. "But maybe I was wrong, and you aren't the right person for the job, after all. Maybe you really are nothing but a jumped-up whore, useful for only one thing – performing on your back."

In an instant, the enraged Darla had grabbed Whistler by the throat. "I've snapped men in half, literally, for a lot less than that!" she growled like an animal, full game face on.

"Like that'll help when the Master gets loose, and the Old Ones come to town," Whistler managed to choke out, before Darla abruptly released him and resumed her human mask.

"The Old Ones?" the blonde vampiress asked with a scowl.

"I figured you'd remember about them," Whistler remarked, rubbing his throat and being careful not to feel afraid; as Darla would instantly smell it. "Now, as I was saying, apparently the Master is gonna get loose next year. In Sunnydale, home of la Boca del Infierno – the Hellmouth.

"Feel like having a look at the poor girl who's been selected to stop him bringing about Armageddon?"

* * *

**Hemery High School, Los Angeles**

**Three days later**

School was over for the day, and the students came streaming out of the school building. Not far away an old, rusted Ford with its windows spray-painted black pulled up on the far side of the street; Whistler and Darla had finally arrived from the other side of the country.

One of the windows was lowered, and Darla squinted out into the daylight, careful to remain in shadow. She looked over at the building and saw the newly-called Slayer, Buffy Anne Summers, come down the steps with three of her friends.

"Is that her? Your so-called world savior? She looks like a complete airhead to me," Darla said contemptuously of Buffy, unable to put aside her antipathy and dislike for the Chosen crowd.

"Yeah, but according to the game plan, she's the one that's gonna save the world a whole bunch of times," Whistler said with a condescending mix between a grimace and a smirk that, when combined with the smug tone in his voice, made Darla want to punch him in the head. "So, unless you want the Master to bring about Hell on Earth, self-interest means you helping the new Chosen One when the time comes."

The human-looking pair of demons started arguing in the car as, not far away, Buffy said to her teenage friends, "So I'm like, 'Dad, do you want me to go to the dance in an outfit I've already worn? Why do you hate me'?"

"Is Tyler taking you?" one of the Buffettes asked with wide-eyed anticipation.

"Where were you when I got over Tyler? He's of the past," Buffy said imperiously to her sheep. "That guy would have to crawl on his hands and knees in order to get me to go to the dance with him. Which, actually, he's supposed to do after basketball practice, so I'm gonna wait here for him."

"Okay. See ya later!" another of the Buffettes said, as she saw her dad arrive with his car. There was a brief flurry of farewells, with Buffy telling all her faithful followers to call her tonight, before she sat down on the steps to wait for her boyfriend.

"Well, look who decided to set up shop right outside the school's front doors! I'm sure Principal Murray would be just thrilled with the whole 'street corner hooker' look if he turned up right now," a sarcastic male voice distracted Buffy.

The Vampire Slayer immediately got up and glared at Alexander Harris; someone who, in this world, she had known ever since kindergarten. After the fire, the orphaned Sunnydale boy had been taken in by his Uncle Rory, and raised in the City of Angels from the early Eighties onwards.

Buffy thought to herself, ( _Great, just what I needed! Why does God hate me like this?_ ) The young woman then spat out, "Why don't you take a long walk off of a short pier, loser?"

"Oooh, I struck a nerve? Someone oughta call FEMA; I'm so scared Hurricane Buffy is about to hit LA," Harris replied nastily.

Buffy replied with a fiery glower, "How is it that none of the guys on the football team have put you in hospital yet? And God, what the hell was I thinking when I considered you my best friend back in kindergarten? I swear, Xander-"

"Don't call me that," Harris interrupted at once. "You don't have the right anymore, Summers. Not after the way you and your friends humiliated me in front of the whole school," Xander glared at the Chosen One venomously.

"Whatever. So, is there a reason why we're having this conversation?" Buffy said disdainfully. Even if, deep down, she felt rather hurt at the scornful contempt aimed at her over what had happened a few months ago.

"Yeah. Ford asked me to find out if you've already lined up a date for the dance next Friday," Xander said. Despite his personal feelings, he'd felt obligated to carry out this favor requested of him by Billy 'Ford' Fordham. Because Ford was a friend that lived not far from Xander, and one Harris knew Buffy had had a crush on as far back as fifth grade – and more importantly, Xander owed Fordham for practically saving his life from some bullies during seventh grade.

"He did?" Buffy asked uncertainly, before regaining her poise. "Well, maybe I do and maybe I don't. Tell Ford I'll call him," the Slayer said dismissively, starting to examine her nails to make sure there were no visible blemishes or imperfections.

Without a word Xander turned and left in disgust, wondering what – apart from the obvious – his old buddy had started seeing in Buffy lately. The blonde watched him go and thought to herself, ( _What a complete douchebag! Oh, and if you're listening, God – you're gonna help me to decide between Ford and Tyler for the dance, right?_ )

As soon as Xander was out of sight, a man in a black suit approached Buffy carefully. His name was Merrick Jamison-Smythe, and he was the Slayer's new Watcher. "Buffy Summers?"

"Yeah?" Buffy looked at him and smiled cheerfully. "Hi!" Upon realizing she had no idea who he was or what he wanted, Miss Summers asked in a confused voice, "What?"

"I need to speak with you," Merrick said solemnly, eyeing his new charge.

Buffy was instantly worried. "You're not from Bullock's, are you? 'Cause I-I meant to pay for that lipstick."

Merrick brushed that aside at once. "There isn't much time. You must come with me. Your destiny awaits."

Buffy, still confused and having no idea that her life was about to be turned completely upside down, shook her head. "I don't have a destiny. I'm destiny-free, really."

"You don't understand. You are the Chosen One. You alone can stop them," the Watcher said seriously.

"Stop who?" Buffy asked, getting a very wiggy vibe off of this guy.

"The vampires," Merrick said with grim finality.

"Huh?"

* * *

**Hemery High Gymnasium, Los Angeles**

**Late November, 1996**

So much had changed over the past year or so, it was hard to even recognize Buffy Summers anymore.

Ever since Merrick had found her and forced Buffy to realize that, yes, monsters did exist, and all the things which went bump in the night really were out to kill you, and it was up to her to prevent innocent people getting slaughtered by the vampires and demons, Buffy's life had never been the same. Her popularity had spiraled down into the depths of oblivion, and the high school sophomore had barely even managed to score herself a date for tonight's soiree.

Just then, a bloodied student made his way inside the gym. "Oh, man! There are vampires out there!" he cried, before collapsing to the floor.

Buffy quickly swung into action as the undead appeared at the doors to the gym, ordering her to come out before they came in. About ten vampires surrounded Buffy as she tossed down her handbag, somersaulted into their midst and lashed out in a fury, kicking and punching and pounding the soulless creatures down as they came for her.

"Xan? Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Ford asked his younger friend in amazement, as Fordham's car came to a halt in the lot.

"Summers in a fight with about a dozen guys? Yeah," Xander grimaced, figuring that he and Billy would have to step in and help her out. Buffy wasn't exactly on his list of favorite people, but she HAD changed since last year and it just felt like something he should do after seeing the fight in question.

"No, dude, look at their faces!" Ford pointed frantically.

"They're high on PCP or something, so what?" Harris asked uncertainly.

Just then, one of the vamps flew forward right above them, and the two high school boys got a good look at the bloodsucker's face.

"They're PCP addicts with yellow eyes and fangs?" Ford demanded. "I've been hearing the rumors lately, bud. But geez, I never expected them to be true..."

"What rumors?" Xander demanded, as he saw Buffy abandon the fight and run for it.

"Vampires," Ford said grimly, as he put the convertible into reverse and gunned it out of there.

"Vampires-?" Xander's incredulous voice could be heard disappearing into the night.

Not far away, Darla saw Buffy re-enter the school and then engage in a fight with the male vampire called Amilyn. ( _My, my. What happened to that missing arm, Lefty?_ ) Darla smirked to herself as Buffy quickly staked her opponent with a drumstick in the music room.

Then Darla went still, as she felt the nearby presence of a vampire even older than herself. Given Amilyn attacking the Slayer here and now, there was only one vampire it could possibly be.

( _Lothos,_ ) the ensouled vampiress hissed angrily. ( The _Master and I should have killed you when we had the chance, damn you! Now what?_ )

That 'what,' as it turned out, was Buffy.

She fought the tall, hypnotic master vampire with everything she had; her strength, her speed, her faith and something no Slayer before her had possessed; her keen fashion sense. Miss Summers managed to set Lothos's hair on fire with a flaming cross and some hairspray, and when that wasn't enough, she burned down the entire gym to get rid of him and his undead minions.

"Well. Maybe this Slayer does stand a chance against the Master after all," Darla muttered to herself as she left the blazing high school gymnasium, going home to pack for her upcoming trip to Sunnydale.

* * *

**St. Charles Avenue, New Orleans**

**May 30th, 1997**

Drusilla hummed to herself dreamily, as she strolled around the abandoned warehouse she and Spike were currently occupying. The last century or so had been pure bliss for herself and her favorite childe; they had seen and done just about everything in exotic locales such as Beijing, Rome, and Tangiers. Life, or un-life as the case may be, couldn't have been better for them.

But then the moon and the stars started telling Drusilla their secrets, and the crazed seer collapsed onto the floor. The doll named Miss Edith started whispering in Dru's ear as well, and various images then inundated her undead brain...

The latest Slayer, her face obscured by strange shadows, arriving at her new home; the domain of the Master – Drusilla's great-grandfather, so to speak.

A dark-haired boy who should have been a meal for her grandmother helping the Chosen One during the ritual called the Harvest; along with a red-haired witch, and the fuddy-duddy replacement Watcher.

The creation of the little boy vampire named Collin, otherwise known as the Anointed One.

The arrival of a nasty temptress just in time to save the witch and a wicked liar gypsy, with her car.

Great-grandfather killing the naughty Slayer, letting her drown – before the dark-haired boy and Grandmother somehow, impossibly, brought her back.

The Slayer and Great-grandfather fighting on a roof, before...

Drusilla screamed in horror, as a vision of the Master's skeleton appeared in her mind's eye. ( _NO! NO, NO, NO! Oh, it's not supposed to be like this! I, I – where's my kitten? And...Daddy was supposed to be there as well?_ )

Spike immediately rushed into the room and said worriedly, "Dru? DRU! Are you alright, luv?"

Drusilla said nothing; she just lay there whimpering incoherently. The prescient female vampire suddenly had the terrible feeling nothing would be all right, ever again.

* * *

**No. 4 Parkview Crescent, Sunnydale**

**July 15th, 1997**

Cordelia Chase started packing for her family's traditional summer vacation, all the while wishing she was going to St. Croix, instead of Tuscany – as she hated the thought of being beach-less for the next six weeks.

It was interesting to note the brunette's life had changed a LOT, ever since Buffy Summers had come to town midway through sophomore year. There had been so many near-death and death-related experiences Cordelia had almost lost track of them all.

For example, there was that incident of almost becoming an offering to the Master after being tricked into following a cute (albeit undead) older boy to a mausoleum, before Jesse and Buffy had shown up to rescue her and Willow at the last moment.

Not to mention the unholy ritual of the Harvest, where she had almost been drained by the vampire Vessel called Luke.

There was the insanity of briefly going blind and almost getting run over by a truck, thanks to a psycho witch who'd wanted to relive her teenage glory days.

Plus the horror of finding a headless teacher one day while getting her lunch.

All those dead bodies showing up during the school talent show.

The nightmare of the Ugly Man chasing her around Sunnydale High, after getting inducted into the Chess Club by a couple of geeks.

Almost getting killed by that lunatic invisible girl.

Almost getting killed AGAIN when that Master person had escaped his prison and caused that Hellmouth demon thing to briefly show up in the school library, while she was there.

As Cordelia continued to pack, she suddenly realized that her love life had been nothing to cheer about, either. That complete social reject, Jesse McNally, had constantly tried to talk her into going on a date with him – before he had finally given up, thanks to that incident when he'd briefly been possessed by a Hyena spirit.

That danger junkie, Owen Thurman, had been a big mistake right from the start.

Mitch Fargo, that vain numbskull, had only wanted to get into her panties; said fact being learned much too late for her comfort.

Kevin Benedict, the only semi-decent member of the group, had been murdered by vampires along with his friends the night before the Spring Fling dance.

( _Why the hell haven't I asked Daddy to transfer me to a nice, SAFE boarding school in Los Angeles before now?_ ) Cordelia asked herself in honest perplexity. ( _Ever since Buffy Summers came to town, I swear – the option of moving to the big city has been looking better and better all the time. I mean things have GOT to be better outside of Sunnydale, right?_ )

Eighty miles away in Los Angeles, Xander Harris put down an ancient book on vampires in disgust; he no longer wanted to read anything about the atrocities committed in this city by the legendary Angelus, the one time he and his sire had come here during the 19th century.

The details on Darla would eventually come in handy, though.

TBC...


	3. New Arrivals

See Part One for Disclaimer and details. Hi, welcome to the latest chapter! Just wanted to thank everyone who's read and reviewed the story so far, please keep it up as it inspires me to keep going and truly warms the cockles of my heart. An extra special thanks has to go to Bill a.k.a. zTiamaTz, for giving this story a plug when publishing his own fanfic! Well, enough from me, it's time for the story to continue...

* * *

**Part Three: New Arrivals**

**Restfield Cemetery, Sunnydale**

**September 2nd, 1997**

Darla stood before the grave of the Master, staring down at it and feeling very conflicted.

Back in 1898, when she had been cursed with her human soul, Darla had sought out her sire in order for him to help her get rid of it. Unfortunately, the Master had been repulsed by her – in much the same way Darla would have been revolted by an ensouled Angelus – and he'd banished her from his court, never to return upon pain of immediate staking.

Oddly, the Master had rescinded that edict during 1937, when he'd come to Sunnydale in order to open the Hellmouth. The ancient soulless monster had wanted his former favorite to witness the coming of the Old Ones, the pure demons that millions of years ago had ruled this dimension. Of course, the last laugh was on him as the Master had gotten mystically trapped in that underground church for sixty years...

After Buffy had arrived on the Hellmouth, Darla – recalling what Whistler had said – had pleaded with the Master for him to leave town if she could get him released from captivity somehow. The only thing that conversation had resulted in, though, was all ties being cut between sire and childe. And due to the Master's actions on the night of the Spring Fling dance, there had been no other choice for Darla but to come down on Buffy's side of the fight, in order to preserve this world which the ex-prostitute liked so much.

"It didn't have to be like this," Darla muttered, staring at the consecrated earth containing the Master's bones. "Why couldn't you have listened to me, just for once? Did the presence of my soul truly disgust you that much? Or was it just that you wanted to bring the Old Ones back so badly, you couldn't stand to see any Slayer get the better of you?"

There was no reply, of course. But then Darla's supernaturally enhanced hearing caught the sound of digging not far away, and she quickly decided to investigate. Walking over to another part of the cemetery, she saw two male teenagers digging up a grave – occasionally looking around furtively, as if worried about getting caught.

"All right, what do you two clowns think you're doing? It's obvious you're not official gravediggers," Darla's sardonic voice made Chris Epps and Eric Gittleson yelp and drop their shovels.

"Uh, uh, who are you?" Chris stammered, staring at the blonde beauty a few feet away from him.

"Name's Darla." The female vampire effortlessly hoisted first Chris and then Eric out of the half-dug grave. "Now answer my question."

"Why should we? I mean seriously, lady, just what kind of authority are you supposed to have, anyway?" Eric suddenly demanded in a belligerent tone of voice.

"I'm not a lady," Darla growled as she morphed into her vampire face, and both Chris and Eric yelped again. "Now start talking."

"Um, uh, well, we-we were just..." Chris started to babble helplessly.

"Robbing this grave. Why?" Darla scowled.

"None of your business," Eric said indignantly, before Darla grabbed him and her fangs came within inches of his throat. "Okay! Okay! I'll talk..."

The whole sordid story soon came out; Darla learned how Chris had reanimated his dead brother, Daryl, who had been killed nearly two years ago, and the zombie had pleaded with Chris and Eric to create a mate for him. A female zombie whom he could spend eternity in the shadows with. Darla had been unimpressed with the plan...

Later that night, after meeting Daryl personally, Darla had been unimpressed with the ex-football player, as well. Unfortunately, the meeting had quickly degenerated into an all-out brawl – and after Chris and Eric had run for it, Darla had made with the slice and dice on Daryl's ass, before burying his body parts in the grave from earlier on in the evening.

"Darla? Whatcha doing?" a familiar male voice interrupted the ensouled vampire's labors.

Darla looked up and pseudo-sighed. ( _Wonderful, him again._ ) "Jesse, what are YOU doing here at this time of night?"

"Something stupid, I guess – looking for you," McNally said, coming closer. "Uh, you're digging up a grave?"

"Filling it in," Darla said brusquely, casting the shovel aside and jumping out of the hole in the earth with inhuman grace and speed. "Now why were you looking for me? And by the way, if you try to ask me out on a date again? This time, I WILL knock your two front teeth out!"

"No, no, uh, nothing like that," Jesse stammered, as he knew the female vampire's threat was serious. After Cordelia's rejection, McNally had moved on to the ensouled vampiress, at least partly; but Darla had made it clear she wasn't interested as well. "Um, I was wondering if you'd noticed anything odd about Buffy?"

"The Slayer? No. Why?" Darla demanded.

Jesse launched into a rambling explanation of how Buffy had acted incredibly mean at school today, dissing himself, Willow, Giles and even Cordelia. Not that there was any love lost between the cheerleader and the Slayer, but Buffy's insults in the school corridor today had been far too bitchy in nature; and even though Buffy hadn't humiliated Jesse in the Bronze tonight in order to make an undead boyfriend jealous, he and Willow were still very concerned about her after their conversation within the teen club.

Eventually, Darla walked Jesse home, with strict orders not to venture out alone at night like this again. Not far away, the Anointed One and his minions arrived at the Master's grave.

"Well, don't just stand there – dig!" the chief minion known as Absalom ordered the others, as Collin stared down at his mentor's grave.

The vamps started digging with shovels or even their bare hands. Then one of them screamed as her hands started smoking, "The ground is consecrated! It burns!"

"Dig," was all that the Anointed One said, and so the grunts got back to it despite the pain.

"We have been put down, kinsmen," Absalom started to preach as the vamps uncovered the Master's bones. "We have lost our way. We have lost the night. But despair is for the living! Where they are weak, we are strong. Where they weep, we rejoice. Where they bleed, we drink! Tomorrow night, a new hope shall arise. The four witnesses to our Master's wretched demise will breathe their last. The blood that pours from their throats will bring NEW LIFE to the Master! We will gather for His resurrection. For the dawn of a new Hell on Earth!" the black vampire finished triumphantly.

* * *

**Abandoned warehouse, Sunnydale**

**September 3rd, 1997**

Unfortunately, the grand scheme hadn't exactly gone to plan as far as the undead were concerned.

The Master's bones had been recovered, and the four witnesses to his death – Giles, Cordelia, Willow and Jenny Calendar – had been dangling upside down, unconscious, waiting to be bled to death in order to revive the Master. Absalom had started the ritual, but then Buffy, Darla and Jesse had shown up and disrupted the proceedings by rescuing the sacrifices.

"ENOUGH!" Absalom shouted, grabbing a sledgehammer as Collin decided that discretion was the better part of valor and the child vampire vanished from the scene of battle. The black vamp snarled at Buffy, "Your day is done, girl. You've ruined EVERYTHING! I'll grind you into a sticky paste, and hear you beg before I smash in your face!"

"So, are you gonna kill me, or are we just making small talk?" Buffy snarked at him.

Absalom raised the sledgehammer in furious indignation and yelled incoherently as he began his attack. Buffy calmly looked at the tall wooden torch post in front of her, before breaking it off and turning it a few times in her hands. Another vampire that had started charging towards her impaled himself on the broken end of the wooden torch and exploded into ash: almost at the same time, Absalom ran into the burning end and was set ablaze by the fire.

The undead black preacher backed up and screamed as the flames spread all over him. He made a last desperate attempt to attack Buffy and raised the sledgehammer over his head, but it was too late as the flames engulfed him and burned him up. The rest of the minions quickly decided to split the scene, as the sledgehammer fell to the floor with a loud clang.

Upstairs on the platform, the four rescuees were finally regaining consciousness. Willow found herself in Jesse's arms as she asked dazedly, "Is it over?"

"No, I don't think so," Jesse replied, as he saw Buffy bend down and pick up the sledgehammer.

The Slayer slowly walked over to the Master's skeleton and looked at it for a moment. Buffy thought to herself, ( _You're dead – and I'm not. Not anymore. I KILLED you. I won our little contest, and there's not gonna be any sort of rematch here!_ )

Buffy swung the hammer back behind her and slammed it directly onto the Master's skull, shattering it to pieces. She kept whaling on the Master's skeleton as Willow, Jesse, Cordelia, Jenny and Giles looked down from above.

Darla, on the other hand, could not stand witnessing this. Despite his desire to destroy the world, the Master had been her sire – her father, her teacher, her everything for centuries, and so the female vampire quickly walked out of the warehouse to avoid tearing Buffy into little pieces for her actions.

Thus, it was up to Giles to scramble down from the platform and comfort his Slayer as she finished destroying the Master's bones and Buffy burst out crying, dropping the sledgehammer to the floor.

"It's all right. It'll be all right now," Rupert said comfortingly, as Buffy turned around and leaned into him, crying into her Watcher's shoulder.

Miss Summers was an emotional wreck after everything that had happened lately, and despite working out her issues with the Master – the Chosen One still had no idea how she was going to apologize to her friends for how terrible she'd acted lately.

* * *

**Park near the town limits, Sunnydale**

**September 15th, 1997**

Buffy needn't have worried about Jesse and Willow being mad at her for endangering everyone's lives, for they were friends in the deepest, truest sense; the Slayerettes were psychologically incapable of doubting their superheroine friend for long, and the three amigos had made up in class the very next day.

What Buffy needed to worry about right now, along with being responsible for setting up Parent-Teacher Night this Thursday evening, was in a classic 1958 Dodge Desoto FireFlite that crashed through the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign and then screeched to a halt.

Spike got out and strolled over to the curb. Sporting a Billy Idol look nowadays, instead of his old brown-haired English gentleman ensemble, the vampire formerly known as William the Bloody lit up a cigarette and said with obvious glee on his face: "Home, sweet home."

"Spoike?" Drusilla said in a weak, trembling voice as she got out of the car as well.

"There, there, luv," Spike said with honest affection in his voice as he came over to his sire. "You all right?"

"It's all wrong in this place, it is," Drusilla muttered, looking around in Sunnydale in seeming despair. "Daddy's not 'ere, and neither's my kitten..."

"Angelus has been dust for nearly a hundred years, poodle, you know that. And what's all this about some effin' pussy cat?" William tried to understand his sire's strange words.

"Gone, gone he is, but not like his mummy 'n daddy. Thanks to a wish and a prayer," Drusilla mumbled cryptically, starting to sway about in her Victorian era dress. "Those two naughty girls, still screamin' in that cage they are..."

Spike quickly lost interest in the entire conversation, knowing nothing about Anyanka and Halfrek. "Come on, then, pet. We've got an appointment to keep with the big noise around 'ere, remember?"

"The Anointed One," Drusilla nodded as Spike guided her back to the car before they took off down the road. "He prepares for the Feast of St. Vigeous, my precious 'eart."

"Well, good," William said as Drusilla guided him on where to go, her second sight having already identified where Collin's headquarters was. "That's this Saturday, innit? Should be quite the spectacle for us to see, luv."

Drusilla suddenly shivered, as the moon started whispering horrible things that only she could hear.

* * *

**Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

**September 18th, 1997**

( _Even for Sunnydale, this has been one weird-ass evening,_ ) Jesse McNally thought to himself. Not just because of the nightmare of Parent-Teacher Night, which just about every student who didn't get straight A's dreaded. No, this was the Hellmouth; and so, one of the worst school nights of the year just HAD to get even worse with the appearance of the vampires.

Jesse didn't get it, to be honest; tonight was Thursday, not Saturday – which Giles and Ms. Calendar had said would be the Feast of St. Vegetables or whatever. The young man couldn't know that, because Spike had become involved with Collin's forces after he and Dru had arrived in town, William's impatience and hotheadness had resulted in the vampires attacking ahead of schedule – before their power would be at its peak in two nights' time.

All that Jesse knew was that a bleach-blonde guy in a black leather coat had led the vamp posse into the school, and after what Giles had told everyone, he didn't want that bloodsucker anywhere near any of his girls. Or himself.

Jesse had wanted to stay and help after the invasion, but he had to admit that Giles' orders to go get Darla made more sense, tactically speaking. The ensouled vampiress would be of much more use in tonight's fight than a normal human like him, so McNally had found Darla in her apartment and told her about the attack. The moment he'd mentioned Spike's name, she had led the way outside and they had quickly made tracks toward the school.

"So what's the plan?" McNally asked his undead companion as they approached the dark high school building, the power had been deliberately cut after the invasion.

( _Plan?_ ) Darla thought. ( _Pretty simple, I guess. Kill them all._ ) Because Darla knew that if Spike was allowed to have his way, there would be a massacre here tonight; and it would be best to avoid that if possible, in her view.

Her great-grandchilde was already enough of an egomaniac concerning all the bragging about his kills – and besides, Darla was still pissed at him for that thing with Cyril Jr. in Romania, a hundred years ago. Not enough to want to personally dust Spike anymore, but still...

Darla figured the best bet was for her to eliminate as many of the fledglings as possible, thus giving Buffy a clear shot at Spike. The female vampire with a soul had heard on the demon grapevine that Spike had managed to kill at least one Slayer during the last century, after Drusilla had taken him with her to New York, but Buffy was strong and resourceful. If she was able to kill the Master, then the odds were that Spike wouldn't be all that great of a challenge to her.

"Well, what have we got here?" a voice called out behind her and Jesse.

Darla and Jesse turned around to see three vampires approaching them, all in game face. Acting on instinct, Darla vamped out as well and grabbed Jesse by the neck, pulling him close.

"Back off!" she snarled at the other vampires. They all stopped upon seeing her game face, confusion evident in their eyes. The blonde vampiress then added viciously, "He's mine!"

"Oh, sorry!" one of the bloodsuckers said, still looking confused. "I – we thought everyone else was already inside..."

"Well, THINKING obviously isn't your strong point, is it?" Darla approached the trio, baring her fangs in anger. The undead guys quickly stepped back, obviously feeling unnerved by her attitude. Darla then demanded, "Has Spike dealt with the Slayer yet?"

The three minions looked at each other, none of them wanting to tell Darla that they didn't have a clue about that. "Um..." one of them managed to say feebly.

Darla, still holding Jesse tightly, quickly got into their faces. "Never mind, I can tell that you three idiots don't know. Now unless I'm badly mistaken, you're supposed to be out here guarding the perimeter. So what the hell are you doing all grouped together like this? Looking for a quick meal?"

"We...uh, well, we..." one of the vampires stammered in acute embarrassment.

"Shut up, you pathetic fool! You, and you!" Darla pointed at the other two. "Go check the back of the school! Make sure no one's gotten out that way. As for you," she pointed at the third vampire. "Go guard the front entrance! I'll join you as soon as I'm done with my meal."

The three minions hastily complied with her commands, and Darla smiled in true pleasure as they did so. She hadn't actually commanded any subordinate vampires in nearly a hundred years, but it was obvious she hadn't lost her touch. The undead duo Darla had ordered to the back of the school quickly vanished, not wanting to be found derelict in their duty.

The third headed toward the main entrance of Sunnydale High...

A second later, he exploded into dust after Jesse managed to get close enough to use his stake: with the disintegrating remains of a skeleton seen for just the barest flicker of an instant.

"Ha! Gotcha, chump!" McNally laughed, rubbing his neck and turning towards Darla. Somewhat tellingly, he wasn't too upset at being used as part of a sting operation like this, most likely because he considered Darla to be a truly gorgeous piece of ass. That was one of the reasons why the sixteen-year-old boy had originally gotten involved with the Slayage, as a matter of fact – in order to impress the girls, as well as help keep his friends Buffy and Willow alive.

Jesse said to Darla, "My neck's kinda aching, though; did you have to squeeze quite so hard?"

"Yes, because I had to make it look real," Darla shrugged, before putting another stake in Jesse's hand and heading towards the back of the school. "Now come on, hurry up and follow me!"

"I'm coming!" Jesse said, faithfully following Darla around to the rear of the building to stake the other two perimeter guards.

Inside the school, Buffy slowly made her way through the dark corridors, thinking that her mother and the other adults should have made it out to safety by now. She just hoped that Willow and Cordelia were all right, as she had seen neither of the girls since the attack had begun. Luckily, those two were currently stuck in a utility closet and no vampires had discovered the female pair yet.

Buffy's thoughts drifted back to that recent meeting within the library. Giles had told her that he had sent Jesse to get Darla – and so the Slayer hoped that her best male friend would arrive soon with their undead ally, as she could do with the reinforcements. ( _I just hope that they get here soon, and nothing goes wrong..._ )

And of course, that was when something went wrong.

Buffy stumbled onto the scene of Darla and Jesse running away from Spike's minions, but the flaxen-haired Englishman sensed her presence and failed to follow his fellow vampires.

"Fee, fi, fo fum. I smell the blood of a nice, ripe..." Spike turned to face Buffy, "...girl."

"You really shouldn't have come here tonight," the blonde Slayer said dangerously, hefting the fire axe she'd appropriated earlier on in the evening.

"Yeah? Well, I guess I've got issues about killing Slayers, luv. Darla always used to get on my case about being too impulsive about that sort o' thing, not to mention being too impatient to savor a kill properly, but I just got so BORED waiting for Saturday..."

"You know Darla?" Buffy's interest was briefly piqued.

"Know her? Slayer, please! Me, Darla, Dru and me old mate Angelus – we were the bloody Scourge of Europe for nearly twenty years! Doesn't your Watcher tell you bleeding anything?" Spike then smirked, "I'll tell you what. As a personal favor from me to you, I'll make it quick. I promise, this won't hurt a bit!"

"Yeah. Not for me, anyway," Buffy said, raising her axe and the fight was on.

"Not bad," Spike smirked as he ducked underneath the axe and delivered a powerful punch to Buffy's face. "The last Slayer I killed, she begged for her life. But you don't strike me as the begging kind."

"That's 'cause I'm not," Buffy replied, dropping the axe and hitting Spike with a powerful uppercut to the jaw. "And in case you haven't noticed, I'm kinda ticked off about you ruining Parent-Teacher Night."

"That right?" Spike continued to smirk, as he punched Buffy three times in a row. "Well, assumin' you survive, I reckon you can always ask the old boyfriend for comfort later on..."

The blonde girl responded with a savage kick to the vampire's face; unfortunately for Spike, he had hit upon a rather sore spot with the Slayer. Buffy hadn't had a boyfriend ever since arriving in Sunnydale – as Angel did not exist, Xander was a very different person living in Los Angeles, and Jesse only had eyes for either Cordelia or Darla.

"Struck a nerve, did I?" William asked the Chosen One, once he recovered from the pain of his nose being impacted by Buffy's foot. "Let me guess, your Watcher frowns on the whole dating thing? Or is it just that no one's interested in dating a complete fashion victim like you?"

That last crack was a mistake Spike would soon deeply regret.

Infuriated, Buffy ducked under Spike's next punch and the British vampire buried his arm into the wall. While he was trapped, Buffy hit Spike in the left kidney whilst kicking the back of his left knee.

Hurt and disoriented, William the Bloody took one precious second too long to get moving – and when he finally did so, the last thing he saw was Buffy's axe heading directly for his neck

"Bloody hell!" were the final words Spike managed to utter, before oblivion swallowed him whole.

"Fashion victim, am I? Least I know the Billy Idol look is SO 1980's, Mr. Dust Bunny," Buffy quipped, brushing Spike's dust off her clothes – as the engines of destiny exploded somewhere up in the higher realms.

* * *

**Abandoned warehouse, Sunnydale**

**September 19th, 1997**

The Anointed One glared at his minions, as daylight came streaming through an upstairs window and hit the wall opposite. A lot of the surviving vampires were very much the worse for wear after invading Sunnydale High under Spike's leadership, and just about all of them were babbling about having gotten their asses kicked by the Slayer.

( _Our numbers are depleted, and the Feast of St. Vigeous has been ruined, thanks to what's happened. About the only good news I've heard so far is that loud-mouthed braggart with the stupid hair is nowhere to be found. He must have gotten himself dusted somehow! Hmm – I guess some good has come out of this mess, after all,_ ) Collin thought to himself with sudden satisfaction.

"Sir? What do you want done about her?" the minion named Lucius asked his undead boss, as the Anointed One looked over in the indicated direction.

"Gone, lost, vanished! My poor Spoike, he won't dance and play with his princess no more. All my dollies will be ever so sad," Drusilla started rocking back and forth clutching Miss Edith to her breast. "Oh, Grandmummy, why did you do it? Because they'll turn against you, eventually, they will. That silly little man and his pet demon will see to that..."

Annoyed by Drusilla's apparently-meaningless speech, Collin quickly made a decision. "Get rid of her," he commanded Lucius.

The minion nodded and walked over to the insane brunette female. He subsequently hoisted the struggling Dru over his shoulder, tossed her into a nearby iron cage and locked the door. Lucius then started pulling on a chain, lifting the cage up from the floor.

"My kitten!" Drusilla screamed as she was hauled up towards the deadly sunlight, the mad seer was currently receiving her last ever psychic vision. "He'll be here soon! And you'll all scream after that happens, you will! You'll burn-"

Her words were abruptly cut off, as Dru caught on fire upon being exposed to the daylight. She screamed in pain as the deadly flames consumed her body, before dust quickly drifted down onto the bottom of the cage and the warehouse floor below.

There was only one member of the Scourge of Europe left in existence, now.

* * *

**Outside 36 Spring Street, Los Angeles**

**September 25th, 1997**

Far away in Sunnydale, Jesse was moping about his recent disastrous encounter with someone called Ampata the Inca Mummy Girl; Giles had his nose buried in a book concerning Seban Kaya, the Peruvian mountain god whom the Incas had sacrificed their princess to; Darla was scowling at Buffy, Willow and Cordelia as the human females pressed her for information on what it had been like dating guys for four centuries; and Jenny Calendar was writing a letter to her Uncle Enyos, concerning the situation with Darla.

But here in the City of Angels, all that was of no interest to Whistler; he only had eyes for Xander Harris, who was camping outside in his back yard in order to avoid the 'party' his Uncle Rory was having inside the house.

Ever since Rory Harris had been granted custody of his nephew back in 1984, Xander's life had naturally been very different to what it otherwise would have been. The two males had moved here to Los Angeles where Rory's taxidermy business was based, with only the annual trip to visit the graves of Tony and Jessica Harris – not that the Sluggoth demon Rory's brother had become was actually dead, but everyone assumed he had died in the fire that day – to remind Xander of the old home town.

( _Damn it, Rory,_ ) Xander thought to himself, hating the idea of sleeping outside his house where the vampires and demons might kill him – but hating to witness his stodgy and boring uncle by day becoming a fur-flinging, booze-guzzling whoremonger by night even more. ( _This is getting worse and worse every month, I swear to God. I'm gonna have to move out soon – maybe even as soon as I turn eighteen..._ )

Eventually, the young man fell asleep in his sleeping bag, despite trying to keep his eyes and ears open. And as Xander slept, Whistler came over to inspect him more fully.

( _Well, you're certainly not much to look at, are you?_ ) the balance demon asked himself, as he continued to inspect this nameless human the Powers had recently brought to his attention. ( _No super-powers, no nothing. Personally, I've got no idea why my bosses want you to go back to Sunnyhell on a permanent basis and help the blondie Slayer, now that Captain Peroxide and his girlfriend are dust – but I'm guessing they must have their reasons for it._ )

Indeed they did. The PTBs could foresee quite a number of apocalypses coming, and since Darla would eventually have to come here to Los Angeles to deal with the ones occurring after the summer of 1999 – a number of destinies would now have to be rewritten in order to make sure the world kept turning for the foreseeable future.

TBC...


	4. Upsetting News

See Part One for Disclaimer and details. Greetings and salutations, everyone! Wow, so many reviews, so many readers – hopefully, I'm doing something right. :) Seriously, thank you all who have sent feedback and reviews, 'tis truly appreciated. Good or bad, I want to hear what you think! Now, some people have questioned me on who's going to end up together with who – unfortunately though I can't comment on that, it'd ruin the surprise. Anyway, on with the show…

* * *

**Part Four: Upsetting News**

**St. Matthew's Hospital, Los Angeles**

**October 1st, 1997**

It was going to be a difficult meeting, the doctor knew that. Such meetings were always difficult, but that never made it less easy to deal with them.

He studied the file before him. William Fordham; seventeen, nearly eighteen years old. A high school senior who should have had his whole life ahead of him, but instead, he now spent most of his time emptying his stomach. In fact, his good days were the ones where he was only throwing up what he last ate. The bad days were much worse.

By the time Ford had gone to see a doctor and the hospital tests were done, it had been too late in more ways than one.

( _Multiple tumors of the parietal lobe,_ ) the doctor thought to himself sadly. ( _Dear Lord, a whole bunch of malignant gliomas that are completely inoperable – the boy has only six, maybe seven, months to live. Ah well, I guess there's no point in delaying the inevitable..._ )

"Send in the Fordham family," the neurosurgeon buzzed through the intercom. As Ford and his parents came in, the doctor kindly asked them to take a seat and then he spilled the bad news as gently as possible.

Perhaps not surprisingly, Mr. and Mrs. Fordham went into shock at once. But their son appeared to be made of sterner stuff than that – Ford had already suspected the truth, and accepted his grim fate with a stoicism that surprised all three grown-ups.

Of course, the adult trio had no idea about the existence of vampires, unlike the one and only Billy Fordham; who had already started making plans on how to survive this, at least after a fashion.

* * *

**The Bronze, Sunnydale**

**October 11th, 1997**

Cordelia Chase and Buffy Summers were two very lucky girls, after the events of the previous night.

After giving up on the whole 'leaving Sunnydale' option, thanks to her father's blunt refusal, lately Cordelia had been trying to snag Crestwood College frat boy, Richard Anderson. She'd known that he was a rich jerk, but what the brunette hadn't known was that he was also a demon worshipper. More specifically, worshipper of a huge snaky demon known as Machida, who ate three girls – virgin sacrifices – on the tenth day of the tenth month every year, in return for supplying his followers with mortal wealth and power.

Cordelia had been selected as one such sacrifice, along with Buffy and another high school girl known as Callie Anderson. During the party last night in the Delta Zeta Kappa frat house, Miss Chase had been drugged unconscious along with her partner in crime, Buffy – who had readily accepted the offer of a date from Tom Warner. He'd seemed like a nice guy – but that was before Miss Summers had found out Tom was actually a vicious killer, and the head of a demonic cult.

Luckily, Buffy had gotten free and killed Machida just as he was about to chow down on Cordelia, and the Scooby Gang had arrived on the scene to act as reinforcements for the Slayer.

"Okay, Willow, I think it's now official. Apart from Jesse and Giles, all men are scum," Buffy said gloomily to her red-haired best friend within the crowded and noisy Bronze.

"Oh, Buffy, don't say that," Willow said quickly. "Just because you've had a few bad experiences..."

"You mean like that Spike guy, who tried to kill me during Parent-Teacher Night? Or how about those computer nerds, Dave and Fritz, who tried to kill me last year? Tom and Richard followed in their footsteps and nearly killed me, too," Buffy said sarcastically. "Even that kid vampire, Collin, the Annoying One. He led me straight to the Master six months ago!"

"Well, okay, so there's been a lot of bad apples lately," Willow admitted. "But there ARE decent guys out there just waiting for you to find, I mean there – there have to be!"

"Name one," Buffy said bluntly.

"Well – look over there!" Willow pointed in Cordelia's direction. "Lance Brooks, he was a senior who, who graduated last year? He was a very popular guy, and all the girls were crazy about him!"

"Huh. If he graduated from high school, then why's he still wearing that letterman jacket?" Buffy asked in confusion, as she took in the sight of the cotton poly-blend material that was holding Miss Chase spellbound – until Lance took the jacket off, anyway.

Willow shrugged; she didn't know that the jacket was enchanted to make all the girls fall in love with its wearer and that in this world, Lance didn't have a younger brother named R.J. to bequeath the jacket to. In any case, Jesse came over to their table at that moment with a newspaper in his hands, which made the girls forget about Lance.

"Hey, guys! Listen to this: it says here that all those frat boys are almost certainly going to be sentenced to consecutive life sentences for murder. Investigators found the bones of missing girls in a huge cavern beneath the frat house. As well as older bones dating back fifty years," Jesse read aloud as Buffy and Willow exchanged a grossed-out look. "Apparently, a huge number of corporations whose chairmen and founders are former Delta Zeta Kappas are suffering from falling profits and IRS raids...oh man, talk about your icky suicides in the boardroom!"

"Which only goes to strengthen my 'all men are scum' theory," Buffy grimaced.

"On behalf of my gender, hey!" Jesse looked offended.

"I mean, apart from you and Giles," Buffy qualified, sending him a sunny smile.

"What are you three talking about?" Darla's voice interrupted the conversation, as the blonde vampiress joined the mortal teens.

"Darla, what's your opinion on guys? Are ANY of them worth bothering with?" Buffy asked carefully. The Slayer knew that the female vampire had been kinda depressed ever since Parent-Teacher Night, something about all her bloodline having become extinct now or whatever.

Darla looked at the Chosen One. "There was one, before I was cursed with a soul...did I ever mention Angelus?"

"No, but that Spike guy mentioned his name during Parent-Teacher Night. Before I dusted him," Buffy abruptly recalled.

"So who was Angelus?" Jesse asked with a jealous look on his face.

"He was my most magnificent creation, back in 1753," Darla mused with a somewhat glazed look in her eyes. "In life he was the handsome, womanizing son of an Irish linen merchant. But after I turned him into a vampire, there was a darkness within him that even the Master felt wary about – ye gods, but Angelus was an evil, sadistic..."

Darla trailed off as he saw the expressions on her companions' faces. "Still. For nearly 150 years, Angelus was the epitome of bliss to me. No other man could compare to his talents, both in and out of bed. Inasmuch as a soulless monster can love, I DID love him. When he was dusted – in my rage, I wanted to destroy the entire world. So it's probably lucky I was cursed with a soul, at that."

Darla then snorted, "Although if you want to believe that demon flunky calling himself Whistler, luck had nothing to do with it."

"Uh, who's this Whistler guy?" Willow wanted to know.

"A balance demon who works for the Powers That Be, apparently. And that's ALL I care to say about the subject," Darla sent a warning look to the others not to press the matter.

"So, then – could I have the honor of the next dance, milady?" Jesse asked hopefully with a smile, as he got up from his seat at the table.

Darla just stared at him, as a slow romantic ballad started to play on the dance floor. Screwing up his courage McNally said, "Please? Maybe it'll help you take your mind off of this Angelus guy."

The ensouled vampiress rolled her eyes and said, "Fine. One dance." Darla irritably took Jesse by the hand and led him away to the crowd of bodies.

"Okay, am I the only one who's getting a way-creepy 'Mrs. Robinson' type of vibe here?" Buffy asked, craning her neck to try to keep an eye on her best male friend.

"Oh, Buffy, Jesse's just being Jesse – it's not as if Darla's leading him on or anything," Willow said dismissively. "And even if she was, she's a whole lot better for him than Cordelia!"

"I thought you two were starting to get along a bit better, y'know, after Parent-Teacher Night," Buffy said in surprise.

"We are," Miss Rosenberg shrugged, even though she was trying her best to repress what it had been like being stuck in that utility closet all night with her old kindergarten nemesis. Even now, Willow couldn't believe that Cordy had actually listened to her suggestion whilst the brunette had been praying, and asked God to send her some aspirin.

"But like I said, Buff – vampire or not, if it comes down to a choice between Darla and Cordelia for Jesse to lust after? I'd pick the demon any day of the week..."

* * *

**Unknown demon dimension**

**The same time**

It had been nearly fourteen years since Anyanka and Halfrek had been imprisoned within a cube of hellfire in this heavily fortified location. Fourteen years of unending torment, that would have been enough to drive anyone mad – except, perhaps, a vengeance demon.

As Anyanka, the patron saint of scorned women, screamed in agony, she abruptly noticed something had changed. For the first time ever since IT had happened, she was alone in her cage; Halfrek was nowhere in sight. The burning demoness then noticed Hallie's amulet on the floor of the cube, as it slowly faded away into nothingness.

As the amulet vanished from existence, so too did the last Wish that had been made upon the demonic talisman. In this case, that was the last change made by a REAL Wish from nearly fourteen years ago, a change made through the wishing power of the amulet. Thus, there was no alteration to the timeline – no sudden changes in history, since the last days of 1983.

The Powers That Be had ended Halfrek's Wish – but not undone it.

Anyanka didn't know how she knew it, but she nonetheless understood that her best friend had just been erased from existence. Even though she never stopped hollering in tortured pain, the thought entered Anyanka's mind that their jailers had seen fit to kill her best friend and not her.

But Anyanka did not feel happy for her gal pal, upon realizing this. She actually felt jealous, instead. Jealous that Halfrek had escaped this pitiful excuse for existence the only way she could, while she continued to burn in this never-to-be-sufficiently-damned prison.

And upon feeling this emotion, Anyanka's mind finally snapped completely; the demoness almost literally felt the last shreds of her sanity slip away.

Anyanka kept on screaming, seemingly never to stop. The sight of her friend gaining relief while she continued to suffer had truly sent her over the edge, and left the demoness a broken and psychotic mess.

* * *

**Outside a local blood bank, Los Angeles**

**October 23rd, 1997**

( _My God, but high school is hell_, ) Xander Harris thought to himself philosophically as he brought his uncle's car – a classic blue 1957 Chevy Bel Air – to a halt, finally arriving at his destination. ( _It's like a human jungle, where only the strong survive. Maybe I should drop out like Ford did? Well, at least I hope that's what he did..._)

Xander paused as he started to get out of his car, wondering yet again about his old friend's disappearing act. Harris was reasonably sure that Ford wasn't dead, anyway, as his father had answered the phone and said that his son was in his room and 'unavailable' to talk. ( _Still, he don't write, he don't call – something funny's definitely going on there._ )

Not half as odd as what was about to happen to Xander, though.

He had arrived here today to donate some blood in order to make a few bucks, and to sample the free cookies – Xander's sweet tooth had to be seen to be believed, Sunnydale boy or otherwise. Oddly, this was the very same blood bank that was used as a screening tool by a demon in disguise calling himself "Ken", in his search for human slaves; but that was irrelevant right now.

What was important was that Xander's car suddenly came to life as all the doors locked themselves, all the windows came up and the roof unfurled from the rear, effectively trapping the male teenager in his own vehicle. The engine then switched on all by itself, before the Chevy shifted into gear and lurched off into the afternoon traffic.

"Hey! HEY! What the FUCK is going on here?" Xander demanded heatedly, as all his efforts to stop the car failed to work. The brakes refused to respond, and trying to switch off the ignition was pointless. The doors wouldn't budge, either. And a few seconds later, the seat belt moved under its own power, strapping him down in the driver's seat so tightly that the boy couldn't help but think there would be a Xander-shaped imprint left in the seat, once he finally got out.

"Help! HELP!" Xander screamed, trying to catch the attention of someone – anyone – close by. But that was futile; this was LA, and one of the most basic rules for the citizens in this city was 'don't get involved'. Thus the young man was helplessly carried off to his destination – a holy spot in the remote southern California desert.

The same place Buffy would have eventually gone on a vision quest, a few years hence.

"It's about time you got here," Whistler said grouchily, as the Chevy finally glided to a stop later that night and Xander wasted no time in leaping out of the haunted car once it released him from his bondage.

"Where am I? And who the hell are you?" Xander demanded, looking freaked despite having learned about vampires and demons and magic last year.

"Name's Whistler. And as for where you are? Call it Harlem," the balance demon said in his distinctive Queens accent.

"Harlem?" Xander obviously didn't get the reference.

"The end of the line," Whistler said impatiently.

"Wait a minute, I – how the HELL did I get here? I mean, my car just..." the young man gestured frantically towards the Harris-mobile.

"Yeah, sorry about that. But then, I figured you might turn down a formal invitation – and since I needed your tokus here tonight given the proper star alignments 'n all, what you just went through was simply the easiest way to bring you here, where you had to be."

Xander started to back away from Whistler. "What kind of weirdo are you? And what do you want with me?"

"As for question number one – despite appearances, I'm a demon. But I'm not a bad guy, believe it or not; despite popular misconception, not all demons are dedicated to the destruction of all life," Whistler shrugged, putting all his cards on the table as Xander gaped at him in sheer disbelief.

"So what about question number two?" Xander finally said, once he managed to pick his jaw up off the ground. "Are you gonna...eat me or something?"

"Kid, please – that's disgusting. On account of I ain't that kind of demon, and this isn't a movie starring Ethan Hawke," Whistler grimaced as Xander automatically exhaled in relief. "Bottom line, I'm here to do a ritual for you to communicate with someone from beyond the grave."

"You can do that?" Xander asked in wide-eyed amazement, before shaking himself. "Whoa, hold up – pause and rewind. WHY would you want to do that? Seriously, mister, what's the what around here? 'Cause I, I'm very confused..."

"Yeah, I guess you would be." Whistler tried to think of the best way to put this. "Putting it in its simplest possible terms, kid, we need your help."

"We? Who's we?" Xander asked at once.

"The overseers of good for this dimension. They're most commonly known as the Powers That Be," Whistler told him. "And before you ask what sort of help we need from you, I'll tell you. According to my information, you need to move back to the old home town – Sunnydale. Or la Boca del Infierno, as it's otherwise known."

"The mouth of Hell?" Xander demanded, eyes wide. "I never heard it called that before. And why the heck would I want to go live there? It's bad enough Rory drags me to that sleepy little town once a year to visit my parents' graves, but no way in hell do I-"

"I got news for you, kid. Your dad, Tony Harris? He's not dead. Well, technically he isn't, anyway," Whistler interrupted, a sympathetic look on his face.

"What? What are you talking about? He died along with my mom in that fire, on my third birthday!" Xander said angrily.

"No, he didn't; but then, I'm not the one who needs to explain all that to you," Whistler exhaled wearily. He then began to make a circle with some twigs and branches, and subsequently did an odd series of movements in and out of the circle.

"Whistler, or whatever your name is – you brought me here all the way from LA just to do the hokey-pokey?" Xander demanded in disbelief, wondering if he really was dreaming right now.

But that thought was quickly dispelled, when a huge pillar of fire abruptly roared into existence a short distance away.

Panicking as primitive memories of his third birthday abruptly surfaced, Xander held a hand against his face to shield himself from the heat of the flames – and then he heard the woman's voice. "Hello, sweetie."

Backing away as the flames disappeared, Xander dropped his hand and then stared at the red-haired woman dressed in white before him. He had seen her face for as long as he could remember, in the pictures his uncle had on the mantelpiece of the Harris home. "MOM?"

"Yes. Or at least, I'm what's left of Jessica Lavelle Harris after she died way back when," the ghost said sadly. The truth was that she did not want to be here, and did not want to have this particular conversation with her son – but her free will had been overruled, and, however reluctantly, Jessica had to do as she'd been ordered by the higher powers.

"Touch me if you like," the female apparition held out her right arm, which Xander gingerly touched – or at least tried to, for his hand went right through her noncorporeal form. "Yes, Alexander, I really am a ghost. And I was summoned here by that balance demon, Whistler, to answer all your questions."

Xander abruptly looked around for his demon companion, but the guy was now nowhere to be seen. Dismissing that as unimportant, Harris said, "Mom, if that's really you – I, I need to know something. Is my dad dead or not?"

"Tony's alive. In a manner of speaking," Jessica grimaced.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Xander demanded angrily, he was starting to get fed up with this very confusing situation.

"Sweetie, I hate to tell you this – but your father's a Sluggoth demon. Right now he's living underground somewhere in Canada," Jessica said as gently as she could, even as Xander looked ready to faint upon hearing her words. "No, it's okay! YOU aren't a half-demon or anything like that, all right? What happened that day when Tony got turned into a demon worm – just listen and I'll explain everything, understand?"

Xander nodded numbly as his mother started to talk. Jessica didn't pull her punches or try to soften the blow; she simply told her son about what had happened during his third birthday. How Anyanka and Halfrek had tricked her into saying "I wish!" after Tony had been called a pathetic worm, amongst other things, and Anyanka had 'embellished' a little on her client's Wish.

"You're, you're serious? That sort of thing really does happen in real life?" Xander said, looking wide-eyed as Jessica looked away. "Mom, if all this is true, then we've got to-"

"I'm sorry, Alexander, but if you're wanting to make your father human again? The only way to do that is to destroy the amulet of the vengeance demon who cursed him, in order to reverse the Wish. And apparently, she's locked up somewhere in another dimension, and practically impossible to get to. Not to mention that even if you did succeed in smashing her pendant somehow, as a demon, Tony's killed quite a lot of people over the years – so I doubt he'll be able to handle what he's done, once his humanity's restored. The odds are your father would end up completely insane afterwards, and that's a best case scenario," Jessica said unhappily.

"What?" Xander couldn't believe it. Then he suddenly looked suspicious at the new expression on his mother's face. "Mom? What is it?"

"There's something else I have to tell you, dear. And it's, it's not something you're going to like hearing," Jessica said sorrowfully.

"Like I've enjoyed hearing any part of this story so far?" Xander demanded belligerently.

Jessica sighed. "I'm afraid you made a Wish as well, during that day."

"WHAT?"

The red-haired lady in white nodded. "You were just a little boy making a wish on your birthday, sweetie. So please don't blame yourself, you didn't know what would happen..."

"What did I wish for?" the younger Harris cut her off, looking afraid of the answer. The truth was he didn't remember any of this – in fact, his very first memory was of the fire that had claimed his mother's life, and the traumatic nature of that memory had caused him to have nightmares throughout his early childhood and repress it as much as possible.

"It doesn't really matter now," Jessica hastily tried to change the subject. "In fact, I've heard that that particular demoness died recently-"

"Mom! What. Did. I. Wish. For?" Xander demanded, looking determined not to be fobbed off about this. "What did I do? Tell me!"

The ghost pseudo-sighed again. "You wished for what a lot of children that age wish for, honey. That everything would end up happily ever after."

"Huh? I don't get it," Harris replied, looking lost. "How is that a, a bad thing?"

Jessica REALLY didn't want to answer this question, but she knew that she had to. "Sweetie...this is going to be very hard for you to hear, but the truth is – despite what Rory may have told you, Tony and I weren't exactly candidates for a 'Parents of the Year' award. Your father – he drank too much, and I was always feeling insecure and bitter about dropping out of college after I ended up pregnant with you. Had I lived, and Tony not become a demon, well – your life would have been..."

Jessica trailed off, seeing the horror on her son's face. "Alexander?"

"You mean – this, this is all MY fault? I, I wished for you and Dad to-?" Xander couldn't quite bring himself to finish his sentence.

"NO!" Jessica shouted, determined to nip this in the bud right now. "Alexander, all this is NOT your fault, so don't you blame yourself for what that demon did! Do you understand me, young man? Don't you DARE do something like that, or I'll haunt you every night for the rest of your life! Do you understand me? I'm your mother, so you LISTEN to what I'm saying!" The ghost advanced towards her offspring, wagging a maternal finger disapprovingly.

"Okay, fine – but, but what exactly are you saying, mom?" Harris recoiled the way teenagers often do, when being confronted by an angry parental unit. "I mean, if it wasn't my fault – then my life, the life I've had with Rory ever since that day in Sunnydale – well, that's as good as it gets? THIS is my happily ever after? The peppermint schnapps, the cheap prostitutes, the animal carcasses flung around the house once a month?" Xander demanded.

"Not exactly, Alexander. I mean, as far as I know – you would have left Rory behind and lived your own life after graduating high school, you would have eventually created your own happiness in Los Angeles. Well, 'happily ever after' being a subjective term, of course, given that you were under a demonic curse and all..."

A pause. "But now the Powers That Be have intervened, and your Wish was in some way nullified without undoing history for the last fourteen years. That's why you were brought here tonight, for you to understand the situation. Basically, honey – you've just been drafted into helping fight the good fight, because your original destiny in Sunnydale has somehow been restored," Jessica said sadly.

"Why? I mean, who did I piss off in order for something like that to happen?" Xander was still mentally reeling from all the information he'd been bombarded with.

"No one. But like it or not, the Powers want you in Sunnydale. They NEED you there, in order to help prevent the end of the world," the ghost woman told him. "I'm so sorry, if I could somehow prevent all this from happening, I would – but I can't. Sweetie, you deserve to be happy..."

"But at what cost, mom? I mean, I haven't forgotten what happened when the vampires showed up at the Hemery High gym last year. If Summers hadn't burned the place down when she did, Ford and I figured that a lot more people would have died that night."

Xander shook his head, already beginning to resign himself to the inevitable. "There's no real point in trying to fight this, is there? If everything you've said is true, then I don't actually have a choice in what to do here. Do I?"

"If it's any consolation, things won't be all bad after it's arranged for you and Rory to move to Sunnydale," Jessica tried to cheer her son up without responding to the question. "In fact, you'll be meeting three very special girls soon – a blonde, a redhead and a brunette. Not to mention a female vampire with a soul."

"A what with a WHAT?" Xander demanded, as Jessica began to explain all about Darla – before telling him details about how to survive as a long-term resident of Sunnydale. Most of it was material Xander already knew; like, don't ever invite anyone into your home, stay indoors or in public places after dark, always carry some holy water or a stake, stuff like that. But still, it felt nice to get some motherly advice like this for once in his life.

There was one thing Jessica avoided mentioning, however; the fact that Xander was effectively taking Spike's place in the battle of good versus evil. Because the Powers That Be did not want Harris to know that...

Yet.

TBC...


	5. Reunion

See Part One for Disclaimer and details. Greetings to you, my faithful readers and reviewers, and welcome to the latest chapter of the story! First off - thank you, Bill, for the latest plug concerning this story. 'Tis most appreciated! Now, a lot of people have asked, given the last few lines of the previous chapter, whether or not Xander is going to become a vampire in this fanfic. Mea culpa – all I meant was that Xander will take Spike's place as the outsider of the group, as seen in the later seasons of the show. Seriously, would I make the guy into an evil creature of the night that eventually turns every girl on the show into a member of his harem? No, don't answer that; one, it would mean that I'm getting far too predictable in my storylines, and two, it would give people ideas, and I truly suck at writing smut...

* * *

**Part Five: Reunion**

**City Hall, Sunnydale**

**October 27th, 1997**

Mayor Richard Wilkins the Third (and the Second, and the First) leaned back in his chair within his private office, as he studied the report in his hands.

Like the members of the recently defunct Delta Zeta Kappa fraternity, Richard was a demon worshipper. Unlike those frat boys, however, Wilkins had sold his soul for eternal youth during the previous century – and he'd set up Sunnydale as a vampire and demon paradise during the early 1900's, as part of his evil plan to eventually achieve Ascension.

A ritual to shed his human form and become a pure demon – one of the Old Ones themselves, who had been banished from this reality long ago, and whom the Master had tried to bring back both this year and during 1937.

( _It's almost a shame I couldn't let that old buzzard go through with his plan to open up the Hellmouth and destroy the world, _) Richard thought with a sigh. ( _Not to mention being unable to tell that collection of white hats that without my covert help, there'd be Hell on Earth right now. Oh well, all good things in time – there's only another eighteen months or so to go before the big A-day, after all._ )

"Mayor Wilkins, your eleven o'clock appointment is here," the tinny voice of his secretary came through Richard's intercom. Even though it was nearly midnight instead of lunchtime, like it would have been at almost any other City Hall. But then, nearly all of Richard's most important constituents conducted their business after sundown, and so it behooved the Mayor to work ridiculously long hours – even though he didn't actually live at City Hall, like some people suspected.

"That's fine, Carol. Show them in," Wilkins said back through the intercom before standing up from his chair.

"Thank you for seeing us on such short notice," the bespectacled vampire known as Dalton said to the Mayor, as he, the Anointed One and a blonde female vampire – the same one that had previously been destined to steal a book called the du Lac manuscript from Giles in a few weeks' time – stepped into the office.

"Well, it's always a pleasure for me to meet with the residents of my town," Wilkins said charmingly.

"YOUR town?" the female vampire said with a sneer on her face. "This is OUR town, human!"

"Well, now, little lady, it seems to me we have a slight difference of opinion here," Wilkins said, his smile not flickering even for an instant. "Ignis."

The vampiress immediately screamed in pain, having burst into flames thanks to the Mayor's minor fire spell. Her arms flailing about, the soulless demon quickly disintegrated into ashes as the Mayor watched the spectacle with only academic interest.

"Now, where were we? Ah yes, I was just welcoming you into my personal domain," Wilkins resumed the conversation as if nothing untoward had happened. "So, what can I do for you gentlemen this evening?"

"It, uh, it's come to our attention that you're the power behind the scenes here in Sunnydale," Dalton said rather nervously, darting an eye in the direction of the dust particles that had been his fellow vampire. "Thus, we were wondering if some sort of accommodation could be reached. Apparently, you met with the Master sixty years ago..."

"And the poor fellow just wouldn't listen to me, when I warned him not to try to open that pesky Hellmouth. Good gosh, it took engineering an earthquake for me to stop that infernal old genius dead in his tracks," Wilkins reminisced. "I tell you, the clean-up ordeal afterwards was just utterly horrendous as well! Icky germs all over the place, completely unsanitary."

"I see," Dalton replied, quickly sending a look towards the Anointed One. "But, uh, if we could focus back on the here and now..."

"Of course, of course," Richard smiled in a chipper sort of way, before deciding to sit down in his chair. "Well, as you might know, I try to keep things as orderly as possible here in Sunnydale. The police and other city officials take their orders from me; they always have, and always will. That's why I think it's possible for us to set up some sort of live and let live arrangement, at least for the short term-"

"No."

The abrupt, one-word answer from Collin both startled Dalton and completely wiped the smile from Richard's face. "Excuse me, young man?" the Mayor demanded.

"I said no," the Anointed One calmly, the little boy vampire staring Wilkins directly in the eye. "There will be no 'live and let live' arrangement, as you put it."

"Well, now, that's unfortunate," Wilkins said regretfully. "Because if you're not going to play ball, well – I'm afraid this interview is over. And so are you, in a manner of speaking."

"No," Collin said in the same calm manner that was beginning to annoy the Mayor.

"What do you mean, no?" Richard demanded.

"Exactly what I said, Mr. Wilkins. Do you know what your problem is? You're just like everyone else. You underestimate me because of my physical form," Collin replied, suddenly going into his vampire face like Dalton.

"Oh, I hardly think so," Richard smirked. "Ignis!"

Unfortunately, this time the spell failed to work; because by now City Hall had been invaded by the vampires loyal to the Anointed One, and one of Collin's minions was chanting a Babylonian anti-magic protection spell outside the office – the same one Anyanka would have used in another timeline, to briefly halt the rampage of an evil black-haired Willow Rosenberg.

"What the heck is going on here-?" Wilkins started to glare at his undead constituents.

Richard's eyes then widened his disbelief, as the Anointed One withdrew a simple dagger from behind his back. Thanks to his superhuman vampire strength and speed, the soulless demon in the body of a prepubescent boy was able to let fly and penetrate the Mayor's right eye with the weapon, all the way to the hilt of the blade.

Just like that. No posturing, no speeches, just a quick economical movement and problem solved for the Anointed One.

As all his planning and sacrifices for a century went down the drain, the last thing that went through Richard's head – other than that dagger – was to wonder how the dickens that little shrimp had ever gotten the better of him...

* * *

**Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

**October 29th, 1997**

The death of the Mayor was big news, oddly enough, in a town where both kids and adults were murdered every night by Sunnydale's 'gang problem'.

Both above ground and below, various individuals were talking about the very public killing at City Hall the other night. In the demon community, it was widely acknowledged that the Anointed One was making a significant power play, declaring himself the master vampire of the Hellmouth; in the human community, it was hoped that the former Deputy Mayor, Allan Finch, would be able to put an end to all the 'gang violence' that plagued the town.

Here at Sunnydale High, the gossip surrounding the death of Richard Wilkins was the most likely reason why the arrival of one Alexander Harris to Sunnydale had generated so little interest amongst his peers.

( _School is school anywhere you go, I guess. Man, I can't believe how much I hate this place already, _) Xander mused to himself as he walked up the steps to the high school's front doors for his first day. ( _Ah well, at least Halloween's coming up soon; it's only gonna be a half-day of school on Friday. And hopefully, Rory will be too busy unpacking all his stuffed animals to want to go out trick-or-treating..._ )

A short distance away Buffy and Jesse were walking along, enjoying the sunshine. "So, Buffy my bestest bud, what's new?" McNally asked with a jovial air.

"According to Giles, it was definitely a vamp attack on City Hall the other night. Lots of people with bite marks, and the papers are spinning the usual story about 'wild animal attacks' as well as the murder," Buffy snorted.

"Ouch," Jesse winced. "Well, I guess it's not like they could print the truth, huh?"

"Guess not. Still, I could do with thinking about something else for a change," Buffy said wistfully.

Right on cue, Willow joined her two best friends. "Hey, did you two hear the latest? There's a new boy in school, someone just transferred here from LA..."

"Huh, how 'bout that?" Jesse smiled, sending a glance towards the Slayer. "Buffy, y'know, it wasn't all that long ago how YOU were the new arrival in Sunnydale. How's it feel knowing that someone else has finally taken that honor from you?"

"I'm pretty relaxed about it, actually," Buffy smiled back at her friend. "So, Will, did you happen to catch a name?"

"No, but – ooh, there he is!" Willow pointed towards Xander in the distance. "Y'know, he's kinda cute..."

"Cute? Willow, please. Remember last year, the boy who turned out to be a demon that you contacted on the Internet? Something which is a big, fat, no-no for us impressionable teens?" Jesse tsk'ed, referring to the Scooby Gang's encounter with the creature called Moloch the Corrupter.

"Well, it beats dating an oversized preying mantis, or-or a life-draining mummy girl," Willow retorted.

"Hey, I did not date Ms. French! She asked me over to her house, and I was just a pawn in her diabolically clever scheme for some guy to fertilize her eggs. And Ampata tricked me. She tricked all of us! I didn't know what she was when I..." Jesse trailed off, finally noticing that Buffy wasn't with him and Willow anymore. "Buff? Buffy?"

"Oh my God," Miss Summers said thickly, still staring at the door through which Xander had disappeared into a few moments ago. "What's HE doing here?"

"Buffy?" Willow asked, looking worried as her best friend plopped down onto a nearby bench. "Buffy, what's wrong?"

"The new guy, I know him. He used to go to my old high school in LA. His name's Alexander Harris," Buffy said with an odd sound in her voice. "We first met in kindergarten, actually. Kinda like you and Jesse, Will."

"Really? Well, that's great!" Willow started to babble enthusiastically. "You guys can hang out, it'll be like old times! Oh, is he boyfriend material by any chance? 'Cause if he is, maybe he can help you get over that whole 'all men are scum' thing, on account of I still think-"

"Willow? Xander wouldn't date me if I was the last woman on Earth. He has every right to hate me after what I did to him," Buffy had a very guilty look on her face as she cut her friend off mid-speech.

"Buffy, what are ya talkin' about?" Jesse asked, looking concerned.

"Uh, there was a time before I became the Slayer – well, I, I wasn't exactly a very nice person. No, let's not sugarcoat it; I was the Cordelia Chase of Hemery High," Buffy confessed, looking more than a little blame-worthy.

"Oh, Buffy, I'm sure you weren't that bad-" Willow automatically refused to believe it.

"Willow? Pretty much everything Cordelia did to you over the years, I did it to Xander – despite the fact that he was my best friend when we were in elementary school," Buffy continued to confess painfully.

"What?" Willow said aghast at the same time Jesse asked in confusion, "Why?"

"Why? Why does any popular girl do things like that to the school geeks and outcasts?" Buffy asked rhetorically, glancing away guiltily. Her voice was filled with regret as she continued, "It was different at first, you know how little kids are; money and status don't mean much. But my family was relatively wealthy, and he didn't have anyone apart from his struggling taxidermist uncle, and unfortunately..."

Buffy shrugged weakly. "As we got older, we grew apart so much that I – in ninth grade, my girl friends and I humiliated Xander in front of the entire school.

"And it wasn't for revenge, or anything like that," the Slayer shamefully admitted. "I did it just 'cause I could." At the look of disbelief from her friends, Buffy again looked away to keep from meeting their eyes. "It took me becoming the Slayer and losing my own popularity to realize just how much of a selfish bitch I was, back then."

Willow and Jesse both stared in horrified incredulity, seeing the sad and pensive expression on their friend's face before Buffy got up and headed for the school building. The two Slayerettes followed in numb shock, still finding it practically impossible to believe that their spiritual leader could have had such a dark side in the years before they'd known her.

* * *

**The Bronze, Sunnydale**

**Later that night**

Cordelia Chase was on the prowl within the popular teen hangout this evening, because her current boyfriend Devon MacLeish hadn't shown up for their date on time. Walking around her domain, Queen C spotted Lance Brooks not far away, as well as that letterman jacket of his. ( _That's odd. Why is it every time I see that guy, I get crazy butterflies in my stomach if he's wearing that jacket of his – but if he isn't, it's like so what, blah-blah-blippity-blah?_ )

Cordelia was about to investigate further, when she caught sight of the new boy in town sitting alone at a table.

( _Hmm,_ ) the cheerleader thought to herself, checking Xander out. ( _Not bad. He'll never be a male supermodel or anything, but he does have that wholesome boy-next-door look working for him. Full lips, big brown eyes, decent cheekbones – what the hell! I'm bored nearly out of my brain here..._ )

"Hi! I'm Cordelia Chase. And you are?" Cordy came up to Xander's table and gave him her patented megawatt smile.

Xander looked surprised that Cordelia was actually talking to him; he didn't have much experience hanging with a hot-looking babe like her. So he looked around and said, "You're talking to me, right?"

"Well, duh! Do you see anyone else at this table?" Cordelia raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at him.

"Right. Sorry. I'm Alexander Harris, but my friends call me Xander," Harris introduced himself politely as Cordelia sat down opposite him.

"Cool. So you're from LA, right? I heard in the caf today how there was a new boy transferring from there," Cordelia said as she settled into her seat, making sure her designer dress didn't have any wrinkles. "And that's you, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Funny thing, though, I was actually born right here in Sunnydale," Xander said musingly. "My uncle and I used to come to this town once a year to visit my parents' graves, but as of two days ago, we're based here full-time."

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry about your mom and dad," Cordelia said, even though she couldn't help thinking that the uncle had to be completely insane for ever deciding to move back to this hellhole town.

"Thanks, but I lost my parents when I was three. It's not like I ever really knew them," Xander said with a small shrug. He knew he couldn't mention details of what he'd learned during that meeting in the desert last week.

"Right. So, is the Bronze totally not happening tonight or what?" Cordelia changed the subject, gesturing around at the club.

Xander motioned his head towards the Halloween decorations. "I guess business is kinda slow around All Hallow's Eve."

"Tell me about it. Last year? I dressed up as Morticia Addams for the Bronze Halloween party. BIG mistake! Not as big as Jesse and Willow dressing up as Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, though," Cordelia curled her lip slightly.

"These Jesse and Willow people, are they your friends?" Xander asked politely.

"No way," Cordelia shook her head at once. "They're just...two kids at school that I happen to know." Miss Chase almost said "a couple of loser geeks", but for some reason she didn't want to come off as an unfeeling bitch to this guy and just managed to catch herself at the last moment.

"Right. So, are you planning to dress up again for Halloween this year?" Xander asked in that polite, interested tone.

"You bet! There are a couple of Halloween parties I'm planning to attend on Friday night, and costumes are mandatory," Cordy nodded.

"I see. Mind if I ask what you're dressing up as?" Harris inquired.

"It's a custom-designed cat costume, actually." Cordelia saw Xander's expression and immediately demanded, "What?"

"It's really not my place to say, I mean – we just met 'n all," Xander said with a small shrug. But after seeing her look he went on, "Fine, just my opinion? You have the face and body of a Greek goddess, so you should dress the part. Well, not necessarily a goddess, I mean – just something that'll make every guy in this town drool at the sight of you," Xander shrugged again.

Cordelia was both flattered and insulted at the same time, but she never got the chance to say anything because Devon finally showed up and Xander quickly excused himself from their presence.

As her boyfriend guided her over to his band known as 'Dingoes Ate My Baby', Cordelia thought to herself, ( _Something that'll make every guy drool at the sight of me? Hmmm, I kinda like the sound of that! What the heck, I'll go shopping again tomorrow for a new costume. And if Partytown doesn't have what I'm looking for, I can always try that new place, Ethan's or whatever it's called..._ )

* * *

**Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

**October 30th, 1997**

As Jesse McNally left her Computer Science classroom, Jenny Calendar couldn't help smiling. She thought to herself, ( _That boy and his hormones, I swear – it's not enough for him to lust after the head cheerleader and that cursed vampire, now he's started sniffing after me as well? It's amazing how he hasn't fallen heads over heels for Buffy and Willow, too!_ )

The reason Jesse had been in here, though, was to talk to the female teacher about ideas for a Halloween costume; since early this morning he, Buffy and Willow had been shanghaied into the annual safety escort program by the school commandant, Principal Snyder. Jenny had told him it might be worthwhile to consider a group theme, given how close those three teenagers were, and when pressed, the technopagan woman had mentioned that Giles owned a big sombrero hat...

Jesse had subsequently departed with a big smirk on his face. Getting the feeling that she simply didn't want to know, Jenny turned her mind to her undercover mission here in Sunnydale – to keep an eye on Darla, to make sure the curse cast by her ancestors still held.

( _Either she_ _puts on a good show of appearances, or else that vampire simply doesn't care anymore about all the people she killed over the centuries,_ ) Jenny thought to herself. ( _Darla certainly doesn't seem to act too miserable every time I've seen her, anyway. Perhaps I should mention that in my next letter to Uncle Enyos – as well as the appearance of that Harris boy._ )

Jenny frowned as she thought of the latest addition to the ranks of the Sunnydale High School student body. Despite the outward appearance of normality, to her mind there was something...odd about him. The undercover gypsy couldn't quite put her finger on what it was, but Jenny was nonetheless willing to bet that Xander wasn't going to be one of the typical herd members on campus around here – that his arrival in Sunnydale was going to herald the start of something new on the Hellmouth.

* * *

**Outside 1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale**

**October 31st, 1997**

"I cannot believe you actually talked Willow and me into wearing these...these outfits," Buffy grumbled to Jesse, as she and her pals waved goodbye to the Slayer's mother Joyce at the front door and the trio started walking in the general direction of the school. They still had plenty of time to get there; the safety program wasn't due to start until four p.m.

"What's the dire? These guys were cool movie stars," Jesse said with a manic grin, adjusting his sombrero.

"The Three Amigos?" Willow asked, staring at the gaudy black mariachi costumes she and the others were wearing. "Jesse, that movie was about three silent film stars who were mistaken for real heroes by a small Mexican village! And they got fired from their jobs in Hollywood, before that actually happened!"

"I know, but they still came out on top by the end of the movie! So, anyway, who do you guys want to be? I call Chevy Chase's character, Dusty Bottoms," the male teenager said with another wide grin.

"Ugh. Well, I guess I'll be Steve Martin's character – Lucky Day," Buffy sighed.

"Then I guess I'm Ned Nederlander, you know – the guy played by Martin Short," Willow mused. "Even though it feels kinda weird for me to dress up as a guy..."

"Technicalities," Jesse brushed that aside. "Besides, those three were best buddies in the movie – just like I am with you guys. We really are the Three Amigos of Sunnydale!"

Buffy and Willow couldn't help giggling at that, unable to deny that it was true enough. Their laughter was cut short, however, as a red BMW with the vanity plate 'QUEEN C' screeched to a halt on the street beside them.

The three friends then saw Cordelia stare at them and say, "Oh. My. God. Your costumes!"

"You like 'em?" Jesse asked as the Chase girl got out of her car, then he automatically lost at least twenty IQ points as a result of seeing Cordelia's costume. "Uh, you look..." he trailed off, unable to say anything – given that he was trying not to drool all over the sidewalk.

"What?" Miss Chase glared at him. "What do I look like?"

"Like, like utter perfection?" Jesse stuttered.

The brunette ignored the compliment, accepting it as nothing more than the simple truth. "Geez, you three can't be serious about escorting those sugar-hyped little brats around Sunnydale dressed like THAT! McNally, I honestly thought it'd be impossible for you to sink even lower into the realm of Loserville and drag these two down with you, but here I stand corrected," Cordelia said with a disgusted look on her face.

"The outfits aren't that bad," Buffy defended her choice of costume, even if her heart obviously wasn't in it.

"Yeah, Cordelia, I mean look at you – what are you dressed up as?" Willow asked Cordy, taking in her outfit. "I thought you were going to be a leopard or something this year?"

"I happen to be dressed as an ancient Greek noblewoman," Cordelia said haughtily, even though Ethan Rayne – the owner and proprietor of Ethan's Costume Shop – had explained to her how the costume was actually what had been worn by the female known as the Oracle of Delphi. Such details had been irrelevant to Miss Chase, then and there – even though they shouldn't have been.

"Right. So was there a reason you stopped by, or was it just so you could harp on us for our fashion crimes, 'Officer Chase'?" Buffy sniped grouchily at the self-appointed fashion police-girl.

"I have an errand to run, if you must know!" Cordy walked away, knocked on the front door of a nearby house and spoke with Mrs. Kalish, before heading back to her car. "Well, I'm outta here. Have fun with your kiddy escort duty later tonight," Cordelia smirked at the three friends, as she got back into her car and roared off down the street.

"Yeah, we better get a move on – or Snyder'll have us in detention until we're all wrinkly," Buffy sighed, resigning herself to an upcoming evening of stultifying boredom.

"You think we're gonna see Darla tonight on the streets?" Jesse wondered, as the three teens got moving.

"Oh, I doubt it," Willow shook her head.

"Yeah, Giles said that tonight is like dead for the undead. They all stay indoors or something," Buffy mentioned absently.

"Well, then, there goes my plan for impressing her with my manliness this evening...ouch!" Jesse yelped, as two female hands slapped him upside the head. "Ladies, please! Don't sample the merchandise like that – oww!" McNally yelped even louder, as Willow and Buffy became more and more annoyed with him with every passing second.

* * *

**Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

**A while later**

Buffy was standing conspicuously alone, the other students giving her plenty of space. Not just because of her choice of costume, but because she had a reputation for starting fights and being freakishly strong; even if no one apart from the Scooby Gang knew that she was the Slayer.

Well, almost no one.

"Hello, Summers. Long time no see."

Buffy whirled around to see Xander standing there. Her former friend was dressed in Army fatigues, and held a toy military rifle in his hands. The Chosen One made an educated guess, and correctly concluded that Harris had been drafted by Snyder for the escort duty thing as well.

To Buffy's eye, he looked good; Xander had gained some inches in height and he had also put on a few pounds in all the right places, ever since she had been booted out of Hemery. ( _My God, but what a difference a year makes... _)

"Xander, I...oh, sorry. I know you don't like being called that," Buffy said, lowering her eyes to the floor.

"You can call me that if you want," Xander shrugged, which instantly made Buffy dart her eyes up in shock. "Seriously, these days I don't mind. Your little nickname has kinda grown on me over the past two years, truth be told."

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with the real Xander Harris?" Buffy demanded, before her brain could catch up with her mouth. "No, wait, I didn't mean it like that..."

"Yes you did. Still, right now, I don't care. I've been hoping for the chance to talk to you, ever since I learned you were a student here," Harris said, looking around to make sure there was no one within earshot.

"You want to talk to me? About what? How much you hate me? How awful I acted towards you back in LA?" the blonde girl demanded, not sure what the hell was going on here.

"We can talk about all that as well if you want, but actually – I was hoping to speak to you about the whole Vampire Slayer thing," Xander said, trying not to let the past influence him right now.

"What?" Buffy felt as if someone had just sucker-punched her right in the stomach. "What are you...?"

"I know that you're the Slayer, Summers. That night you burned down the gym in LA, I saw you fighting the vampires. I did some research later on, and after watching you flip Andy Johnson flat on his back that day for touching your butt? It wasn't exactly hard to put two and two together," Xander said bluntly.

"You..." Buffy wheezed in shock, staring at Harris as if he'd grown another head.

"I haven't mentioned it to anybody, if that's what you're worried about. Well, apart from my mom last week," Xander clarified his previous statement.

"I, I thought your mother died when you were, like, three or something," Buffy stammered, abruptly recalling that piece of trivia from the dim, ancient past.

"She did. Funny thing, though, how you can summon someone's ghost that way," Xander said slowly, before he noticed Principal Snyder heading their way with four prepubescents in tow. The balding little troll was someone he wanted to avoid after that unpleasant 'welcome' on his first day here, so Harris decided to cut the current conversation short.

"As soon as this escort thing tonight is over? We'll talk," Xander promised the Slayer, before walking away.

In a daze, Buffy accepted her collection of little kids from the scowling principal, even though her thoughts were still focused on the boy she had once called her best friend...and who now knew her big secret.

* * *

**Abandoned warehouse, Sunnydale**

**Not long before sundown**

The Anointed One sat upon his throne, listening to the reports of his minions before abruptly dismissing them. Things had been hectic ever since the demise of Mayor Wilkins, and listening to the offers of various alliances from various 'people' did tend to wear thin on his patience.

Collin then summoned Lucius and Dalton to make sure that everyone was present and accounted for; the Master had impressed upon his protégé how important it was to follow the tradition of staying indoors during this particular night. The night when the veil between worlds was supposed to be at its thinnest.

There was a reason why nothing ever happened during Halloween as far as the supernatural community was concerned, after all.

* * *

**Ethan's Costume Shop, Sunnydale**

**A while later**

In the back room of the establishment, the shopowner prepared to incant a spell before a two-headed statue. Because he had magically cursed all the costumes in his store such that everyone would become whoever or whatever they'd dressed up as tonight. The reason for this was that Ethan Rayne was a chaos worshipper; and tonight's little stunt was designed to unleash chaos upon the living Earth, to honor the Roman god of chaos known as Janus.

Ethan began chanting in Latin, his voice carrying a sense of power and magic underneath the words. / _**Janus, I invoke your spirit. Hear my plea. Seize the night for your own reason. Come, appear and show to us that which is infinite power. The mask transforms itself into flesh and blood. Your holy presence curdles the heart. Janus! Take the night!**_ /

Outside the costume shop, a cold wind started to blow as invisible magical energy began to crackle throughout the town.

Ethan raised his head and said with cold amusement, "Showtime."

TBC...


	6. Aftermath

See Part One for Disclaimer and details. Howdy all, welcome to the latest chapter of the story! My deepest thanks to everyone who has reviewed and sent feedback. WesGeorge, I'm sorry the story isn't exactly working for you yet – I'll do my best to shake things up a little, try to make Jesse seem like less of a Xander clone and make Xander his own man. As for the 'shippiness question, my lips are sealed! And thank you for the review; feedback junkie that I am, I crave just about any sort of response, positive or negative. So, my dear readers, please don't be shy – hit that review link at the bottom of the page, and tell me what you think...

* * *

**Part Six: Aftermath**

**Ethan's Costume Shop, Sunnydale**

**November 1st, 1997**

Not long after the midnight hour, the costume shop smelled like a slaughterhouse as Allan Finch washed the blood off his hands and Ethan's bloodied and battered corpse lay alongside the shattered bust of Janus.

Ever since Richard Wilkins had been killed by the Anointed One and Allan had been unexpectedly promoted into office, the new Mayor of Sunnydale had known that drastic measures would be necessary on his part. Wilkins had been a powerful sorcerer, apart from all the deals with the demons he'd made over the past century, and Finch had known that as a powerless, ordinary human, he just wasn't in the same league with regard to coping with the proclivities of Sunnydale's non-human citizens.

As Deputy Mayor, he'd been safe enough under Wilkins' personal protection – but now, on his own, he was just another target for Collin if he became annoying to the Anointed One. Or worse yet, he might end up some enterprising demon's man-bitch, if anyone got the bright idea of trying to control mundane Sunnydale using him as the figurehead/patsy.

Basically, Allan had known that there were only three options available to him. One: accept that his days were numbered and try to make the best of it until the inevitable assassin or enterprising demon walked through his office door. That option did not appeal to him in any way, shape or form.

Two: run for his life, get out of Sunnydale as fast as he could. Eh, better than option number one, but abject poverty didn't exactly appeal either, not after a life of comfort and luxury as the Deputy Mayor – a job Finch had held like his father and grandfather before him.

Finally, three: become Mayor in fact as well as in name, and take over control of Sunnydale the same way Wilkins had done. That option was the most appealing, but also the most uncertain in terms of Finch living to see his next birthday.

He'd thought about it ever since Richard's funeral the other day. Allan knew that there were demons in Sunnydale who would want a continuation of the status quo; especially the non-violent types, and the ones which Wilkins had made various deals with and who would otherwise be unable to receive their promised tribute. And given the circumstances related to the death of his predecessor, Finch had known that the city officials would instinctively transfer their allegiance to him if he stepped up and did what was necessary.

Including terminating the chaos spell Ethan had unleashed earlier this evening, with extreme prejudice.

"Mr. Mayor, it's still pretty much chaos out there," the chief of police, who just happened to be named Bob, said as he stepped into the back room of the costume shop. "I've got my people rounding up the survivors, but it's damned slow going-"

"I don't care about all that right now; put the details in a report for me to read tomorrow. At the moment, I'm more interested in damage control," Allan cut him off roughly. In his former role as Deputy Mayor, he'd learned how Wilkins had handled Sunnydale's top cop and that knowledge was certainly coming in handy right now.

Bob sighed. "Well, we can spin the usual story about gangs that get high on PCP..."

"That's not going to work this time, you idiot! Everyone knows how this is the one night of the year that all the 'gang members' in this town hole up in their lairs. If the papers print that crap tomorrow morning, I'll lose any semblance of respect within the supernatural community," Allan said with a mean look on his face, even though he had been trying for 'angry and/or deadly' instead. "Give me another option."

The police chief thought about it. "A gas leak, plus riots instigated by unruly visitors from out of town? College students in Halloween costumes, maybe?"

"Better. We can probably make that one fly," Allan nodded as he headed for the front door of the shop. "All right, do it. You know the drill, lean on the newspaper editors and the rest of the media to say what we want them to say. And find someone to take care of the body in here, will you?"

Bob looked down at Ethan's corpse in distaste. "Yes, Mayor Finch."

Allan paid no attention as he left the costume store. He was thinking that he definitely needed to empower himself in case – or, more likely, for WHEN – something like this happened again. Finch made a mental note for after all the fuss had died down, to requisition everything he needed to blast his way into an underground cave he'd read about in Richard's personal files.

The cave that was home to a tribe of Nezzla demons, and which contained the Orbs of Nezzla'khan.

* * *

**Alley off Main Street, Sunnydale**

**Not long before dawn**

Jesse McNally woke up slowly, groggily, finding himself leaning against a hard wall and a couple of female heads leaning against his shoulders.

( _Black sombrero, black mariachi jacket and pants, red cummerbund, white ruffle shirt and curly red tie_, ) Jesse thought to himself dazedly, seeing what they were all wearing before all the memories of Dusty Bottoms and what had happened the previous night surfaced in his mind. ( _Oh, crap, all that really happened?_ )

Indeed it had. Jesse remembered losing control as Dusty took over his body, and then hooking up with the rest of the Three Amigos; Lucky Day, who was possessing Buffy's body, and Ned Nederlander, who was possessing Willow's body.

The screams of horror from those two silent movie stars, upon finding themselves inhabiting the bodies of teenage girls, was something Jesse knew he'd never, ever forget – even if he lived to be a hundred. The fear and confusion felt by the men who'd initially thought the year was 1916, likewise.

It had taken Dusty quite a while to calm down his comrades, in between running and hiding from all the – creatures that had been in the strange, futuristic town the Three Amigos found themselves in. But once they had done so, Bottoms had inspired his fellow heroes to do something to save all the screaming townspeople they'd encountered from a bloody and lethal end.

"Come on, don't you two remember our motto? Wherever there is injustice, you will find us. Wherever there is suffering, we'll be there. Wherever liberty is threatened, you will find..." Dusty had said, before all three of them had chorused, "THE THREE AMIGOS!"

There had then followed the traditional movie action groin-thrusting, which suddenly made Jesse cringe when he looked over at the sleeping Willow and Buffy. Because he couldn't help wondering if his two female friends had actually been endowed with guy parts in a certain region down south, thanks to the magical possession.

And if so, whether the male dangly bits were still there.

* * *

**Disused church, Sunnydale**

**The same time**

Cordelia Chase woke up to find herself sleeping on a wooden pew, in the same abandoned church Spike would have used to heal Drusilla in a few weeks' time – had he and his sire not been dusted over a month ago, of course.

/ _**What is this? Where am I?**_ / Cordy said in perfectly accented ancient Greek, before she glanced down at her Halloween costume – a skimpy knee-length white chiton, with blue and scarlet threads and golden girdle – and all the memories of being the Oracle of Delphi during 582 BC were shunted aside, as the cheerleader realized what had happened.

"Oh, why ME? God damn it, I HATE this town!" Cordelia screamed angrily as she got up off the Oracle's makeshift bed for the night. "As if my life wasn't weird enough already..."

Indeed, the weirdness had truly engulfed Miss Chase now. She could easily remember what life as a female seer had been like back then; being consulted not only on private matters, but also on affairs of state. She could remember how the Oracle's utterances had often swayed government policy and the course of nations, despite the prejudices of such a male-dominated era. Cordy could even recall how the Oracle's influence had eventually grown so much that a war had been fought between Delphi and its Greek sister states in order to control the Oracle, who by that point had been over fifty years old.

( _Eww,_ ) Cordelia thought to herself with a grimace, the female teen trying to repress the memory of being old enough to be a grandmother with all her might. ( _Oh, geez, think of something else. Anything else!_ )

Cordy forced herself to think back to the events of last night. Everything had been going so smoothly, she had been about to meet up with Devon and his bandmates – before all the chaos had erupted out of nowhere. Cordelia recalled how the Oracle had awoken within her body completely bewildered and confused, unable to understand anything about the world she'd found herself transported to, approximately two and a half millennia ahead of her time.

In fact, in a rather ironic twist of fate, it was the Delphic seer who had thought that all the cars around her were demons of some sort, instead of the possessed Buffy Summers. But eventually, after a vision of the future, the Oracle had made her way here to holy ground, where she'd safely ridden out the events of the previous night.

"I have GOT to convince Daddy to get me out of this town, somehow. God, even military school is looking good right now," Cordelia muttered to herself, wondering what time it was before remembering that she didn't have a watch on.

And then, the next moment, Cordelia Chase had a brief vision of her own personal future at the high school, not too long from now.

The images played out in her mind's eye, with vocal Surround Sound crystal clarity. Cordy's destiny – such as it was, after Jasmine had been 'neutralized' back when Xander had been orphaned – had just taken another abrupt left turn.

Naturally, the young woman completely freaked.

* * *

**Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

**A while later**

Within the school clock tower, the early morning sunlight eventually made Xander Harris wake up with a jerk.

Like Jesse, Buffy, Willow and Cordelia, Xander's head was full of memories that were not his own. Unlike them, however, the Soldier Guy Harris had been possessed by the previous evening had understood where he was, even though he'd had no idea how he'd gotten there – and so, Soldier Guy had been able to save a few people from the rampaging monsters along with the Three Amigos, even though their paths hadn't actually crossed last night.

Right now, though, Xander wasn't thinking about that. He was remembering Soldier Guy's life; enlisting in the Army at the age of nineteen, eventually becoming a member of Special Forces, and receiving specialized training in weaponry and hand-to-hand combat. There had also been education in a foreign language, before Soldier Guy had been shipped out to fight in the Vietnam War.

Xander then did his best to repress all the memories concerning what Soldier Guy had seen during his tour of duty in south-east Asia. The Battle of Đắk Tô, the Tết Offensive, and even the response to the Mỹ Lai massacre; that barbaric atrocity which, after the Army cover-up had failed to suppress the truth, had prompted many within the American public to call its own military personnel 'baby killers'.

Including Soldier Guy himself, when he'd returned to the U.S. after his tour of duty was over.

Xander felt sick, as he remembered that part of Soldier Guy's life despite all his mental efforts not to. The man who'd selflessly done his duty by his country had arrived home – only to be wrongly labeled a mass murderer and a rapist, by all the war protesters. Harris could recall how Soldier Guy had been baffled as well as appalled by such accusations, especially the rapist part; because the nightmares, the Agent Orange, and the Saigon whores all strung out on drugs had turned many war vets (including himself) away even from normal sex. That is to say, consenting sex.

Soldier Guy had been as celibate as a monk by the time his consciousness had shown up in Sunnydale last night, and for good reason.

Abruptly remembering something else, Harris quickly took off his olive-green shirt in order to examine his right arm, and there it was; a Special Forces tattoo, exactly where the soldier persona had gotten himself inked during the late Sixties.

"Shit," Xander said succinctly, as he examined the green beret, skull and crossbones created by last night's chaos spell. "Unbelievable! Man, I REALLY hate magic..."

Xander sat there in the clock tower, trying to get himself under control. He had no idea how much time had passed, before he saw something peculiar. Well, maybe 'peculiar' wasn't the right term after everything that had happened last night, but it was nonetheless unusual even for Sunnydale.

Xander saw the word 'LIBRARY' being scrawled by an invisible hand in the dust coating the floor in front of him.

"Mom-?" Xander asked as he jumped to the obvious, at least to him, conclusion, while whipping his head around in search of the ghost in question. Unfortunately, however, there was no reply and no other sign of the ghost of Jessica Harris.

Deciding he had nothing to lose, Harris made his way down from the tower and headed straight for Slayer Central.

* * *

**Sunnydale High Library, Sunnydale**

**A while previously**

Rupert Giles polished his glasses carefully, as he listened to his Slayer ranting about what had happened the previous night. Because it hadn't exactly been a stress-free evening for him, either.

After Ethan had carried out his spell, Giles had eventually become aware that something was wrong after hearing yelling and sirens outside his library. Venturing outside, the Englishman had headed for Darla's basement apartment as soon as he saw the insanity raging on the streets, and both the Watcher and the ensouled vampire had done what they could to save people before Allan Finch had finally terminated Ethan's 'prank'.

Giles and Darla had then sought out their three teenage acquaintances, but the Slayer and her Slayerettes were nowhere to be found. Although barely a speck on the map, Sunnydale was nonetheless a town that housed nearly forty thousand people, and there were just too many places to check out before dawn. Giles and Darla had decided to head back to the library once the approaching daylight became a factor for the vampiress, and luckily Buffy, Jesse and Willow had shown up there unharmed not long after the adults had arrived.

Well, maybe 'lucky' wasn't exactly the word Rupert would use right now...

"And another thing, Giles, I thought you said Halloween was the one night of the year when all the supernatural stuff decided to take a holiday? Because the whole 'different personality taking over your body' thing last night sure didn't feel like it to me!" Buffy said angrily, thinking the Council operative was completely ignoring her.

Giles almost broke his glasses in half. "Are you – you're blaming ME for last night's fiasco?"

"No, of course not," Willow cut in before Buffy could answer, before sending her best friend a warning look not to fall any deeper into the hole she'd already dug for herself. Then the redhead turned her attention back to the Watcher, "But, but Buffy sorta does have a point, Giles; you DID say that Halloween was the one night where as far as all the monsters were concerned, it was supposed to be 'all quiet on the Western front' o-or whatever."

"Well, traditionally it is," Darla said, shaking her head in perplexity. "I mean, I'm sure that practically every vampire in Sunnydale apart from myself stayed indoors last night. In fact, I'd heard from the local snitch that the Anointed One had given strict instructions to all his minions to follow that rule. So whoever it was that was responsible for what you three went through, I'm fairly sure it wasn't someone of the undead persuasion."

"Well, that's a switch in this town," Jesse commented, recalling all the vampire-related events since Buffy had arrived in Sunnydale.

"Indeed. Most likely, i-it was some sort of rogue mage or sorcerer. A highly disturbed individual, I'd wager, a-a-and someone we'd best keep an eye out for," Giles said, as he had never gone anywhere near Ethan's costume shop last night – which was a good thing, actually, as Bob had decided to burn the place down, with Ethan's body in it, in order to get rid of all the evidence and effectively cover up the murder.

"Oh! Giles, w-what have you heard about all the little kids we were escorting last night?" Willow spoke up, looking very concerned. "I mean, those that didn't get possessed by their costumes, they-they must have been..."

"Rupert and I heard on the radio that the majority of them have been safely returned to their parents, while he was driving that decrepit old wreck of his back to the library." Darla sent a smirk towards the English librarian.

"I'll have you know, my Citroen is a perfectly safe a-and effective motor vehicle," Giles shot back in annoyance.

"Okay, could we focus on something more important, please? Like how about the fact that Willow and I spent the entire night as a couple of GUYS, with guy hormones!" Buffy abruptly resumed her ranting, she was still justifiably upset about that.

"Are either of you feeling any, uh, unexpected after-effects, from – from the, um, the possession?" Giles stuttered, not wanting to get his Slayer any more riled up than she already was.

"No," both the blonde and the redhead said in unison, which caused both Giles and Jesse to sigh in relief. No one noticed that Willow was looking a bit uncomfortable as she said that, though. They also couldn't hear Miss Rosenberg's thoughts about when exactly wanting to do 'stuff' with Ms. Calendar, Buffy, Darla, and/or Cordelia was going to go away.

Buffy then added vehemently, "But that doesn't make it any easier to cope with the memories! Giles, I can remember what it's like having sex with a GIRL!"

Willow squeaked and turned bright red, trying to suppress the naughty, lip bite-y causing thoughts featuring Buffy, herself, and a can of whipped cream. Jesse just stared at his hero in a glassy-eyed daze, while similar NC-17 rated thoughts ran through his mind. Meanwhile, Giles simply polished his glasses all the harder, as Darla openly smirked in careless amusement.

It was about that time that a wide-eyed Jonathan Levinson, who'd arrived just in time for Buffy's shouted admission, grunted before he turned and literally ran away – almost before anyone, primarily Buffy, noticed he was ever there. Seeing only a hint of denim as the library door swung shut, leaving her no clue who to later threaten into silence, Buffy let out a shout of frustration.

"UGGHH! This is so totally unfair," the ex-cheerleader pouted, crossing her arms and fighting the urge to childishly stomp her foot on the floor. "I have all these stupid-ass memories from that guy, including thinking that one of my two best friends is a complete six-year-old, and now this happens!"

"Hey!" Jesse spoke up, feeling insulted.

"It's okay, Jesse; you know that that wasn't really Buffy, anymore than the person she was talking about was really you," Willow said comfortingly, placing a hand on her best male friend's shoulder. The redhead wisely left unmentioned the fact that in private, Buffy had confessed to her that at times, Jesse really did act like an immature kid – especially when he was lusting after Darla.

( _Okay, here comes trouble,_ ) Willow thought to herself as Miss Chase stormed into the library, still wearing her Halloween costume. "Cordelia, what are you doing here?"

"Why the hell do you THINK I'm here, Willow?" the brunette said scathingly, sending the redhead a malign glare. "I just spent the night running for my life, while I was possessed by my Halloween costume! Now what the hell happened? I figured if anyone would know, it'd be you freaks and geeks that hang out here in the lame-o version of the Bat-cave!" Cordelia deliberately left out mentioning the vision she'd had in that church before coming here; that was a subject she wanted to discuss with Giles later, in private.

"We, uh, we don't actually know what exactly happened – wait, Cordy, are you okay?" Jesse asked, automatically reaching forward with his hand.

"I'm fine. And don't you EVER touch me," Miss Chase hissed angrily, recoiling as if the male teen was a leper or something. "I thought I made that absolutely clear, after you were de-possessed of that hyena thing last year!"

"You did," Jesse hung his head in shame, even if it was the Primal spirit that had been controlling him which was to blame for that incident. "Sorry, my mistake."

"Damn right it is," Miss Chase muttered under her breath, even though Darla and Buffy could still hear her thanks to their mystically enhanced hearing.

"Come on, Cordelia, can't you just forgive and forget what happened back then? Jesse WAS possessed, at the time-" Buffy started to say.

"And that was the only reason I didn't tell my father what really happened in that classroom before you showed up, and why his loser ass didn't end up in jail afterwards," Cordelia interrupted, sending the Chosen One a look of withering contempt even as McNally felt like complete scum at her words. "But hey, before that? Jesse WASN'T possessed all the other times he tried to come on to me – so he's just lucky I didn't decide to shoot him with that sixteen-gauge shotgun one of my dad's Texan clients gave my family as a gift, a few years ago!"

"If we could move on from this – stimulating topic of conversation," Darla rolled her eyes in annoyance, "you people still have to decide what course of action, if any, you're going to undertake to deal with the events of last night. I could try to ask around, see if anyone's heard anything on the grapevine..."

"That's an excellent idea," Giles said swiftly, also glad for the change of topic – the love lives of teenage Americans was not something he cared to dwell upon, especially with Buffy constantly moaning about not being able to find a suitable boy to date. "That snitch you mentioned before, err, what's his name..."

"Willy. He's a bartender in the demon-friendly part of town," Darla mentioned.

"Yes, him," Giles nodded. "I'd wager he'd be the obvious starting point; the man must overhear a lot of things from his demon and vampire clientele. You and Buffy should go press him for information, so to speak."

"Good idea. Let's go," Buffy nodded to Darla, her Slayer aspect eager to get out there and Do Something.

"Wait, Buffy! What about your mom? She must be freaking right now, you never went home last night! Jesse, yours too – mine are still on their annual lecture tour," Willow cut in, looking worried.

"She's got a point, Buff; your mom's probably called the cops, they'll be on the lookout for you," Jesse nodded. "Same with me, I guess." He cast a questioning glance towards Cordelia, unable to help it.

"If you must know, my parents are in La Paz this weekend," the high society princess huffed in annoyance. "And I don't need to report my comings and goings to the maid or the family butler."

"Buffy, all of you – go home," Giles ordered the four teenagers gently. "I'm sure Darla can handle that, that Willy chap just fine on her own. We'll meet here again Monday morning, agreed? Hopefully, we'll-we'll have some answers by then."

"Thanks, but you can count me out," Cordelia said scornfully, abandoning her plans to discuss the vision she'd had earlier on with the Watcher. ( _He probably doesn't know jack about that sort of thing, anyway._ ) "As if I'm ever gonna come here again, if I don't have to-"

At that moment, Xander Harris walked straight through the library doors. Still wearing his green Army fatigues and carrying his shirt in his hand, Miss Chase got an eyeful of Xander's muscular arms, plus the washboard abs and pecs that were another leftover from being possessed by Soldier Guy.

"Hello, salty goodness," was the first thing that popped out of Cordelia's mouth, as she started eyeing the new boy in town a lot more appreciatively than before.

* * *

**St. Matthew's Hospital, Los Angeles**

**Later that night**

Earlier today in Sunnydale, Xander's meeting with the Scooby Gang within the library had certainly been what one might call 'interesting'.

Harris had spilled just about everything that had happened to him, ever since his meeting with Whistler and his mother's ghost. Darla had verified part of Xander's story in that she knew Whistler was a messenger for the Powers, at least. Buffy and Xander had then had a private conversation in Giles' office because she'd wanted to settle things that had happened between them in the past, even if Harris wasn't particularly interested in doing so at that point in time.

For his part, Jesse had seen the way Cordelia was staring at Xander – and after hearing that Harris had been sent here by the higher powers to help Buffy, he'd officially decided that he didn't like the idea of another rooster in the hen-house. Willow and Darla had taken him aside and talked to McNally about it, and the vampiress had bluntly told him not to act like a jealous idiot. Which had only raised Jesse's hopes that one day, Darla would see him as something more than just a mindless hormonal teenager.

In any case all that was of no interest to Billy Fordham right now, here in LA. He'd just gotten out of a meeting with his neurologist, and whilst waiting for his parents to join him – he was still a minor, so the doctor wanted to talk to them alone for a while about his patient's situation – Ford was dialing Sunnydale to talk to one of his recent acquaintances.

"Hello, Marvin? Sorry, Diego," Ford looked upwards at the ceiling in annoyance over the other male teen's insistence on using his new name, before resuming the conversation. "Look, did everyone arrive okay in Sunnydale?"

"Good," Ford replied, after hearing Diego's reply concerning a group of foolish kids who thought that vampires were 'exalted' creatures who were going to 'bless' them with immortality. "Alright, I'll be in Sunnydale soon. Now, have you selected a site for the club yet? You have? Excellent. What's it called? The Sunset Club, got it. What's the address? Hang on a second," Ford quickly scribbled it down on his bottle of painkiller pills. "All right, good. Oh, and Diego? See if you can find someone to rig the door up special in that former bomb shelter. I'm thinking we make sure the Lonely Ones don't change their minds and leave, once they come inside. Right, I'll see you shortly..."

Ford hung up a few seconds later, before his facial expression altered to show complete contempt.

( _Idiot. All of them, complete morons,_ ) Fordham thought in disgust, wondering yet again how some people could want to become vampires just because they were lonely or miserable or bored or whatever. ( _I'll be doing the human gene pool a big favor, offering those people up as a free meal – no doubt about it. Too bad about Summers being a sacrificial offering as well, but there's no way for me to guarantee getting turned without giving her to the vamps as well._ )

At that moment, for some reason he didn't understand – Ford wondered where Xander was, and what he was doing right now. He had lost track of Harris completely over the past month. Deep down, the small speck of humanity still remaining in Fordham's soul was glad that his old friend was not going to be involved in what was about to go down in Sunnydale; Ford didn't like visualizing the accusing look which he KNEW would appear on Xander's face, if that guy ever found out what he was up to.

Too bad for the dying teenager how old friends had the nasty habit of turning up right when you didn't want them to...

TBC...


	7. Reunion, Part Two

See Part One for Disclaimer and details. Hello all, welcome to the latest chapter! I just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who's been reading and reviewing this fanfic – RavenWoodbane, thank you in particular for all your kind words. I hope you all continue to tell me what you think! And a virtual cookie to everyone out there, who spots my little homage to The Simpsons in this chapter... :)

* * *

**Part Seven: Reunion, Part Two**

**A Place Where Nothing Need Be What It Seems**

**A Time Meaningless To Mortal Minds**

A wave crashed onto the shore of the Sunnydale beach as Buffy, wearing only a summer dress, walked barefoot across the sand. Smiling, she stopped and looked out over the ocean. She then closed her eyes and raised her head to just feel the sun on her face, and listen to the waves come in.

This was Buffy's special place, the peaceful sanctuary she could go whenever life as the Slayer simply got too much for her. Here, she could still be that normal teenage girl who just wanted to graduate high school, go to Europe, marry Christian Slater and eventually die.

Feeling content ever since Halloween – she had finally repressed that nightmare of what life was like, living as a man – Buffy continued to bask in the sunlight and enjoy the mindless roar of the ocean. But opening her eyes after hearing human voices, the Slayer turned to the right and squinted slightly at the sight before her.

Jesse was building a sandcastle, and the expression on his face was one of childlike glee. Buffy frowned as she saw Willow join him, and the two started playing together like little kids.

"Can't understand why you're so surprised, pet. Different circumstances, that would 'ave been you over there as well."

The Slayer whirled around, only to see Spike standing there on the sand behind her. "You..."

"That's right, baby, I'm back," Spike sent Buffy a very annoying smirk. "Miss me?"

"How the hell-?" Buffy demanded, backing up and instinctively reaching for a stake.

"Oh, come on, Slayer!" Spike said in exasperation, his British accent grating on Buffy's nerves just like during Parent-Teacher Night. He gestured towards the sun, "Doesn't THAT give ya a great ruddy clue what's going on 'ere?"

"You're dead. I killed you," Buffy said belligerently, silently cursing the fact that she was unarmed.

"Yeah, that ya did. Shouldn'ta gone down that way, granted, but too late to cry over spilt milk now," Spike shrugged.

"What are you talking about?" Buffy demanded.

"I shoulda been your destiny, luv," Spike said with an evil grin, gesturing back and forth between them. "Thing is that, eventually, you and me? Well, let's just say I always knew that the only thing better than killing a Slayer, would be giving her a good hard shag..." He then thrust his groin forward to illustrate what he meant, just like one of the Three Amigos would have done it.

"You're nuts!" Buffy shouted, the blonde virgin feeling sick at the very concept of sexual relations with a vampire. "I kill your kind, not sleep with them!"

"She's got a point as far as that goes, Spike. Besides, I would have gotten there first; you'd have just helped yourself to my leftovers," a different male voice said from behind the Slayer.

Again, Buffy whirled around to see a vampire – a tall, pale and very handsome one. He was wearing a black duster and black leather pants that would have had many girls ready to swoon at how well they emphasized his taught masculine body, and Buffy quickly fought off a fluttery feeling in her stomach. "Who are you?"

"Name's Angelus. You might have heard of me," the new arrival sent Buffy an arrogant smirk.

"What? This isn't po- Darla said that you were dead, you've been dust for a hundred years!" Buffy said incredulously, recalling that conversation in the Bronze and still attempting to ignore how good-looking this guy was.

That only caused Angelus to laugh. "Well, yeah – I mean, I never said I wasn't. But c'mon, lover," Angelus told Buffy with an evil grin, one that only grew as she shuddered at the implication of his endearment. "Use your head; think. How can Spike and I both be here, standing directly in the sunlight and talking with you?"

"This is a Slayer dream of some sort," Buffy realized, trying with all her might to suppress nausea about another vampire claiming to have had sex with her. Or that he would have had sex with her, or whatever. ( _My God, this has got to be some sorta nightmare..._ )

"Bingo! See, William, I told ya – it may have taken her a while, but the good old Buffster eventually got there in the end," Angelus said merrily.

"Oh sod off, ya magnificent poof," Spike said, annoyed from hearing his human name being spoken by his grandsire. "Don't you 'ave to go put on some extra hair gel, or something?"

"Don't YOU have to come up with a poem containing something that rhymes with 'effulgent', Willy Wannabite?" Angelus shot back.

"Least I never went drivin' around LA in a bloody convertible – hell, mate, why didn't you ever get a damn license plate saying 'irony'?" Spike replied nastily.

"Why didn't you ever admit to yourself that everything you did, it was to win approval from the girl – whether that was Buffy, Dru, or even your own mother?" Angelus threw back roughly.

"Okay, how old are you two – twelve?" Buffy said, starting to look exasperated with her undead companions. "Now answer my question. What. Do. You. Want?"

"It's your dream, Buff. You tell us," Angelus said with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows, making Buffy want to smash that smirk off his face with her bare fists. "All right, fine. The Big Bad is coming, no weapon forged can kill him, Darla won't be there to help you, blah-blah-blah. Ugh, someone up there really needs his ass kicked for making me do this!"

"Yeah, Peaches, and to think – the only one who can help her now is ol' Droopy Boy," Spike added in disgust, even though the Slayer had no idea who the vampire meant by that remark. William then said, "Look!"

Buffy looked towards where Spike was pointing, and a man engulfed by green fire walked out of the ocean. Day abruptly turned into night as Angelus and Spike disappeared; and Buffy found herself rooted to the spot, unable to move as the burning man headed towards her. He smelled acrid and vaguely sulfuric...

Buffy screamed the moment she saw that the young man wreathed in green flames had Xander's face.

* * *

**Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

**November 4th, 1997**

Buffy sat in the History classroom, deliberately not looking in Xander's direction. She also ignored the concerned looks of Jesse and Willow, who always knew it when their superheroine friend was in some sort of funk.

"Okay, let's discuss the basis of the French Revolution," the female teacher said, trying to stir up some interest amongst the students. "You should have all done the reading, so what are your impressions of the reigning monarchy?"

"Well, it seems to me like Louis XVI was just sort of a weak king," one of the boys piped up, looking rather embarrassed as everyone stared at him.

"That's fair enough. Ah, any other impressions?" the teacher asked hopefully.

Cordelia spoke up, "I just don't see why everyone was always picking on Marie Antoinette. I can so relate to her. She worked really hard to look that good, and people just don't appreciate that kind of effort!"

The teacher looked a little nonplussed at hearing that. "Yes, well, that's a very interesting perspective..."

"Right, and I know the peasants were all depressed and cranky and everything...I mean, it's no wonder they ended up all 'let's lose some aristocrat heads' or whatever. But still, Marie Antoinette cared about them. She was gonna let them have cake!" Cordelia said passionately.

"I thought that French cake was about as nourishing as a Twinkie without all the creamy white goodness on the inside," Xander spoke up, as Cordelia turned to stare at him. "In other words, she told them to eat garbage or something?"

"That's – not all that far from the truth, actually. So, would anyone else like to comment-" the teacher started to say, before the bell rang to indicate the end of the period. "All right, everyone, before you go – make sure you study chapter five of your textbook carefully. There just might be a quiz on the subject matter next week," she told the class, which caused all the students to groan in dismay as they packed up their stuff and vacated the room.

"Wow, Buffy – that Xander guy kinda put Cordelia in her place, huh?" Willow said with an admiring smile as she, Jesse and Buffy walked away from the classroom.

"Oh, I dunno – I think maybe he was just trying to show that he'd done the required reading. Which, after the Slayer dream I had last night, I found kinda hard to remember," Buffy replied, still trying to figure out what Xander burning with green fire could possibly mean.

"C'mon, Buffy, 'fess up – what did you dream about? By any chance, was it me finally knowing the love of a woman, in the full body sense of the word?" Jesse wisecracked. By this time, he was pretty much back to normal, having rejected all his Halloween memories of Dusty Bottoms – because practically everything that McNally had inherited from that 1916 movie star just didn't fit in with who he was, and who he wanted to be.

"Sorry, Jesse, but Darla didn't put in an appearance last night. That Spike guy did, though – and so did someone calling himself Angelus," Buffy said, carefully omitting any reference to Xander until she could discuss the dream with her Watcher.

"Angelus? The One With The Angelic Face?" Willow asked in confusion, having read up on the guy ever since last month. "But didn't Darla tell us-"

"-that he was dust? Sure," Buffy interrupted. "That didn't stop him and everything else in the dream from majorly freaking me out, though. I woke up screaming, and my mom came running into my bedroom, demanding to know what was wrong."

( _Oh, I sure wouldn't mind running into Darla's bedroom that way, _) Jesse thought to himself with a slight smirk as the trio reached the student lounge. "Well, I say we get your mind off your troubles by having a wild dance party at the Bronze. What do ya say?"

"Myself I'd suggest a box of Oreos dunked in apple juice, but maybe she's over that phase," Ford said as he arrived behind Buffy.

The Slayer whirled around. "Ford?"

"Hey, Summers," Fordham smiled as Buffy threw herself into his arms. "How've ya been?"

"Oh, my God, Ford! What are you doing here?" Buffy exclaimed as the two let go. She then quickly grabbed hold of Ford's hand; an action did which did not go unnoticed by Jesse and Willow.

"I'm matriculating," Ford said by way of explanation, starting down at their hands before returning his gaze to Buffy's face.

"Huh?" the Slayer asked cluelessly.

"I'm finishing out my senior year at Sunnydale High. Dad got transferred," Ford clarified his earlier remark, even though he was completely lying his ass off.

"Oh, well – that's great!" Buffy gushed happily.

"I'm glad you think so. I wasn't sure you'd remember me, actually," Ford said self-deprecatingly.

"Remember you? Duh! We only went to school together for seven years. You were my giant fifth grade crush, and we dated for a while during freshman year!" Buffy said happily.

Jesse cleared his throat. "So, I take it you two know each other?"

"Oh!" Buffy stammered, hurriedly making up for the social faux pas. "I'm sorry, guys. Um, this is Ford! Uh, Billy Fordham, this is Jesse McNally and Willow Rosenberg!"

"Hi," Ford said to the Slayerettes politely.

"Hey,", "Hello," Willow and Jesse said back.

"Ford and I went to Hemery together in LA," Buffy said to her friends, before turning back to Ford. "And now you're here. For real?"

Ford nodded, deciding to expand a little on his lies thus far. "Dad got the transfer, and boom, he just dragged me outta Hemery and put me down here."

Willow smiled. "So you two were sweeties ever since fifth grade? Buffy, why didn't you ever mention anything about this before now?"

"No, uh, back then I was a manly sixth-grader; I couldn't be bothered with someone that young. We didn't date until her freshman year, and that ninth grade beauty contest," Ford said with a genuine smile.

"Ford! Stop that. The more people you tell, the more I'll have to kill afterwards," Buffy blushed slightly.

"So, just outta interest, why'd you two ever break up?" Jesse asked curiously.

"Good question. She never did give me a satisfactory answer after Summers ended it between us, way back when," Ford raised an eyebrow at the Slayer.

Buffy flushed, her cheeks becoming very pink. "Well, well, I...had a lot happening in my life at the time, I was going through all these...changes. Plus your best friend wasn't exactly happy about, y'know, 'us'," the Summers girl somehow made up a plausible excuse on the fly.

"True, but I-" Ford started to say.

"Anyway! My friends and I, we're all going to the Bronze tonight. It's the local club, and you just have to come," Buffy jumped in before Fordham could mention Xander's name. "Please, Ford?"

"Sure, I'd love to! But, uh, if you guys already had plans...would I be imposing?" Ford asked hesitantly.

"Nah, the more the merrier. Feel free to join us," Jesse offered graciously.

Buffy then dragged Ford away to the admissions office in order for the guy to get his paperwork in order – or so she thought, anyway. Jesse watched them leave after the hurried goodbyes, and his smile suddenly vanished.

Willow saw it and asked, "Jesse, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's just – well, last week it was that Xander Harris guy, and now it's this 'Ford' character. It's like we're being invaded here, Will! I mean, who's it gonna be next week, some girl who the Buffster traded Barbies with during second grade? And notice how quickly she ditched us for her ex-boyfriend, just now. That is so not friendly to us, her best friends!" McNally said in annoyance.

Willow thought about it. "Did you consider the possibility that Buffy may be so desperate for a decent guy, that she didn't want Ford to meet any other girl here on his first day? Plus, I think she might have been feeling a little lonely lately."

"With us around? Willow, surely you jest!" Jesse exclaimed.

"Well, it's just that sometimes, I-I think Buffy feels kinda left out with the two of us, y'know? I mean, we have this whole history together that she's not a part of, and that must be kinda hard on her to deal with – especially when we talk about all the normal things we used to do, in the old days."

"Yeah, maybe," Jesse said thoughtfully, before his expression brightened and he changed the subject. "Hey, you think Darla will be at the Bronze tonight? 'Cause I think I'm wearing down her resistance, and I'm kinda hoping she'll give me two dances this time instead of one!"

Willow shook her head and sighed. Obviously, her male friend had only one thing on his mind these days, just like ninety-nine percent of his peers. It also made discussing the new feelings arising as a consequence of her Halloween experience far more difficult with Jesse.

After all – Willow couldn't simply say, "Oh, by the way, I think I'm kinda gay now," to McNally, at least not just like that.

Well, actually, she probably could – but Jesse would almost certainly try to swallow his foot with something like, "Oooh, could I watch you and your girlfriend go at it like a pair of gibbons in the back seat of Noah's Ark?"

* * *

**The Bronze, Sunnydale**

**Later that night**

Cordelia was holding court in the teen hangout, discussing various topics of interest with her Cordettes – such as lipstick, the latest fashions from Paris and why she had dumped Devon yesterday, after he had flaked on her once too often. Suddenly, she saw Xander Harris come in and excusing herself from her friends, the young woman chased after the young man in question.

"What did you think you were doing, challenging me like that during History class today?" Cordy demanded, as soon as she and Xander were alone.

"Excuse me?" Xander replied with a look of honest confusion on his face.

"You heard me," Cordy said impatiently. "What was it with that whole 'eating garbage' wisecrack?"

Xander shrugged. "What was it with you trying to play mind games with the teacher?"

"What are you talking about?" Cordelia inadvertently took a step back.

"You think I couldn't tell what you were trying to do?" Xander said with a small smirk, one that quickly vanished. "Cordelia, we may not know each other all that well yet, but after Saturday morning, there's one thing I do know – and that is, you're smarter than the 'airhead' image you presented in class today. The only thing I can figure is that you were deliberately trying to appear like a vapid idiot, for whatever reason. None of my business why," Xander shrugged again. "You want to put on a false mask like that in public – that's your issue, not mine."

Cordelia was momentarily stunned at his insight, at how this boy had stripped away her outer defenses. But with the aid of being the Oracle of Delphi for one night, Miss Chase quickly decided on a new course of action and went on the attack. She said with a haughty smile, "I have no idea what you're talking about, but just for that – you're going to have to take me out to dinner and a movie on Friday night, to make up for it. Pick me up say, around, seven-ish?"

But to Cordelia's astonishment, Xander shook his head. "Sorry, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline. Please don't misunderstand me, I'm flattered – I really am – but I'm also not into the dating thing, at least not right now."

To say that Cordelia was flabbergasted was like saying the Earth was a little bit round, or the sun was a little bit hot. Harris had completely stunned her again and the brunette could only stammer, "What the-? Are you actually saying 'no' to the offer of a date with me? There are seniors at Sunnydale High who'd be willing to get down on their knees and BEG me for the opportunity I just gave to you! Wait, is it me? Like, is there something wrong with my hair tonight-?" Cordelia started grasping at straws concerning the incomprehensible rejection she'd just suffered.

"It's not you. It's me," Xander reassured her hastily.

"What are you talking about?" Cordy demanded, she wasn't handling this well at all.

"You remember what I said in the library during the weekend? Well, I didn't tell you guys all of it because I didn't want to gross you out, but fact is I can remember things from Soldier Guy's life that aren't exactly pleasant on the old memory banks. Rape victims, villagers who sold their own daughters into prostitution, there was even one case of a pregnant woman and a West Point Abortion-"

"What's that?" Cordelia interrupted, looking somewhat ill at Xander's words.

"Be grateful that you don't know," Xander replied, a haunted look on his face as he recalled that horrific incident. "But my point is that magic spell seriously screwed me up, and it's too soon for me to...I haven't forgotten enough yet, Cordelia. Maybe in a few weeks or months I'll be okay again, but not now. I swear, at the moment – I'm not the kind of guy that you or any other girl should be dating. It wouldn't be fair to you, if nothing else."

Cordelia stared at him for a moment before she turned around and left, her mind whirling. ( _Oh my God. That boy has certainly got issues! Almost as many as I do..._ )

The next moment, Cordelia was hit by a vision of the future. She foresaw Lance Brooks and her second-in-command, the blonde girl named Harmony Kendall, approach her before Lance suddenly looked sick and vomited all over her Todd Oldham turquoise dress.

Snapping out of it, Cordelia saw the pair approach her and just like in the vision, she heard Lance say to Harmony, "Yeah, babe, I'm definitely going places! In fact, after I graduated high school, I got into the management program for-"

Cordelia moved, scant moments before Lance would have emptied the contents of his stomach onto her clothing – thanks to food poisoning from eating at the local Doublemeat Palace. ( _Eww!_ ) the brunette thought to herself in disgust.

"Oh, gross!" Harmony whined, as Lance ejected his latest meal all over the floor. But as soon as the ditzy blonde caught sight of that letterman jacket, it was as if she'd forgotten all about Lance's little social gaffe. "Come on, let's get outta here!"

As they did so and one of the Bronze employees came over to clean up the mess, Cordelia continued to stare at Lance.

Or, rather, at Lance's enchanted jacket, as everything she'd learned about magic suddenly came to the fore of Cordelia's mind.

* * *

**Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

**November 5th, 1997**

Rupert Giles was a man in a hurry this morning, and he had two major things on his mind. One of them was where exactly he and Jenny Calendar were going to go on their date tonight, and the other involved what was the current situation with his Slayer and the Hellmouth.

The British man saw Buffy and Ford walking along and called out, "Buffy!"

When the two teens came over Giles went on, "Um...yes, uh...Ms. Calendar and I are going...somewhere tonight, and she's given me the number of her beeper thingy, uh, in case you need me for, um..." He trailed off, eyeing Ford uncertainly, "study help, uh, or anything like that. I'll just give it to you now." He reached into his pocket and passed the blonde girl a slip of paper.

Buffy smiled. "He knows, Giles."

"What?" Rupert didn't get it.

"Ford knows that I'm the Slayer, so no need to speak in code," the Chosen One replied, Fordham had said as much to her the previous evening after seeing her slay a vampire outside the Bronze.

"Yeah, I know what Summers gets up to at nights," Ford added. "Have known for about a year now, actually."

"Oh! Uh, very good, yes. Uh, um, Buffy..." Giles quickly led the Slayer aside as he said to Ford, "Excuse us a moment, please." The Englishman then said to his charge, "Does EVERYONE on this campus know who you are, nowadays?"

Again, Buffy smiled at her Watcher's typical flustered expression. "I didn't tell him, Giles. Ford already knew, just like Xander did – guess I really wasn't as careful with the Slayage as I thought I was, back in LA."

"Yes, obviously..." Giles exhaled. "Well, I-I-I suppose one more person who knows your secret identity hardly makes any, um, significant difference at this stage. Anyway, uh, just remember, if you..."

"Go, Watcher mine! Experience this thing called fun. I'll try not to have a crisis during this evening," Buffy smiled even wider this time.

As Giles left, Buffy returned to Ford and looped her arm through his. "So, where were we?"

"Discussing the past. And the future," Ford smiled down at the petite beauty hanging onto him tightly.

"Oh! Wait, I can't believe I haven't mentioned it before now. Have you seen Xander on campus yet? I don't know if he knows that you're here – hey!" Buffy exclaimed as Fordham instantly screeched to a halt. "Ford, what's wrong?"

"WHAT did you just say?" Fordham demanded of the Slayer, his eyes flashing wildly.

"I asked if you'd seen Xander, since you got transferred here," Buffy didn't understand what was wrong.

"Xander? Xander Harris? As in, our old classmate from Hemery, Xander Harris?" Ford demanded roughly. "He's in Sunnydale?"

"Yeah, he arrived here like you did, not long before Halloween," Buffy frowned. "Ford, what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, it's just – we lost touch after you left LA. Fact is, I haven't spoken to him in ages," Ford said, trying not to panic.

"But I thought you two were, like, best friends?" Buffy continued to frown.

"Things change," Ford said slowly, still figuring out how to best deal with this unwelcome news. "So do me a favor and don't tell Xan that I'm in town if you run into him, okay? I'll talk to him myself, when the time's right. Settle things between us, mano á mano."

As Ford led her away, Buffy continued to frown. The Chosen One didn't know what exactly was going on, but she suspected it had something to do with that stupid 'guy code' that Jesse was constantly espousing to her and Willow. It was tempting to do as her former honey asked, and drop the matter entirely...

But her Slayer aspect just wasn't satisfied with Ford's explanation for his behavior, and so Buffy Summers simply couldn't do that.

* * *

**The Sunset Club, Sunnydale**

**November 6th, 1997**

They say the best laid plans of mice and men often go astray, and that was certainly true in this case.

Buffy had sought out Xander and told him that Ford was in town, at roughly the same time Fordham had found the lair of the Anointed One and negotiated his sick and twisted 'deal' with the vampire in question. The next day after school, Xander had tailed Ford here to his club and started to demand answers.

"Ford, I am THIS close to completely snapping right now," Xander growled, he was currently in the former bomb shelter with his former best friend and Ford's sacrificial offerings. "Because I don't know what you're up to, but I know – I KNOW – something's not right about it!"

"Relax, bud. You'll get your answers as soon as Summers gets here," Ford promised Harris, taking another painkiller for the agony that had suddenly flared up within his head.

"And yet somehow, that's not good enough," Xander said, pulling out a pistol he'd stolen from his uncle's gun cabinet. Better safe than sorry in this town, and after Halloween, he'd not felt properly dressed without a gun anyway. He chambered a round and said, "C'mon, dude. I know how you're just dying to tell me everything, right?"

Fordham sighed and led Xander up the stairs to the balcony level – whereupon he confessed everything. Ford ended the explanation by saying, "Believe it or not, Xan, you weren't supposed to be here – I didn't want this to have anything to do with you. So, I'm afraid it's your own fault for showing up here today..."

Xander stared at his old friend in abject horror, before staring down over the railing at the club patrons below. "All of them are going to become vamp chow?"

"Basically, yeah," Ford nodded. "But in return, I'll become immortal. A vampire."

"Ford, have you completely lost it? These people may be idiots, but they don't deserve to die!" Xander shouted angrily.

"Well, neither do I! But apparently no one took that into consideration, 'cause I'm still dying!" Ford suddenly shouted back at him.

Xander finally began to realize the situation for what it was. ( _So, that's why he's doing this!_ )

"I still look okay, don't I? But I've got maybe five or six months left, and if I do nothing, what my parents will bury won't even look like me any longer. It'll be bald and it'll be shrivelled and it'll stink to high heaven." For less than a moment, Billy Fordham looked furious at his lot in life, at the sheer injustice of it all – before he calmed down and looked Xander right in the eye.

"No thanks, pal. I'm not going out that way," Ford declared firmly.

Xander averted his gaze, as Ford kept on going. "Well, Xan, I can't help noticing how you've gone all quiet here. Mind if I ask why? I mean, did learning about all the tumors in my brain put a dent in your moralizing or something?"

Xander just shook his head. "I'm sorry, Ford, but I can't let you do this." He raised the gun, and pointed it directly at his friend's heart. "Now I want you to-"

"Hey! What's going on here?" Buffy's voice rang out, distracting Xander at the worst possible moment.

Quick as a snake, Ford lashed out with a crowbar he'd had hidden within his jacket. Xander went down like a sack of potatoes from the blow to his head – and the last thing he saw was the regretful expression on Ford's face, before everything went black.

The rest of the evening only got worse, unfortunately. After Buffy arrived and Ford's minion, Diego, locked the door behind her, events pretty much followed their original predestined course – with two major exceptions.

The first being that since Spike and Drusilla were dust these days, there was nothing Buffy could do except save herself and Xander, once he had woken up, from the Anointed One's vampires – after they came storming into the club and started feasting on the deluded fools waiting for their 'blessing'.

The second was that Collin decided to take Ford's body with him after rewarding the dying teen for services rendered, despite the fact that the Slayer had managed to elude his grasp yet again.

That was part of why, when Billy Fordham initially rose as a creature of the night within the Anointed One's warehouse lair, the male vampire immediately got down on one knee before Collin and said reverently, "Master."

* * *

**City Hall, Sunnydale**

**November 14th, 1997**

It had been two weeks since Halloween, and life was starting to return to what passed for normal on the Hellmouth.

Buffy and Xander were still on the lookout for the vampire version of Ford, who was 'different' from other bloodsuckers in terms of being an undead killing machine. He was soulless and evil and not bothered by murdering and feeding on other people, but for some reason – the demon still considered Xander to be his best friend, even though they were now on opposite sides.

Giles had hypothesized that the feelings of friendship had been such a strong and enduring part of his personality, possibly as a result of Ford's illness affecting both his mind and his brain itself, that when he was turned, the vampire demon had somehow absorbed that facet of the human's psyche. To the point that Ford had actually gone out of his way to visit Xander after rising, as well as to promise to protect him and most importantly – prevent him from being turned.

Rupert hadn't spent much time worrying about such atypical vampire behavior, though. Because Jenny Calendar was still recovering from being possessed by the sleepwalker demon known as Eyghon, who had come to town in order to kill him. Jenny's nightmares had put a terrible strain on the relationship between the librarian and the Computer Science teacher, perhaps even damaging it beyond repair.

Career Week had come and gone at Sunnydale High, a relatively boring affair as no one named Kendra and no members of the Order of Taraka had come to town during that time. Willow had been wooed by two corporate recruiters, along with a young man named Oz – but unfortunately for him, the red-haired computer hacker had been too distracted by the questions regarding her sexuality to pay any attention to the signals the musician had been sending her way.

Cordelia had continued to keep a close eye on both Lance and Xander, and in the meantime, her career test results had come back saying that she was best suited to be a motivational speaker or a personal shopper. Both paths were equally appealing, and equally suitable as well. Cordy's speeches certainly motivated her Cordettes to be the best they could be in order to remain part of the popular clique, and the bumper sticker 'Born To Shop' the brunette had recently slapped onto her BMW said a lot about her favorite pastime.

Jesse had ignored the conclusion that he was best suited to be a gardener and continued to lust after Darla and even Jenny Calendar from afar, which had caused the ensouled vampiress some annoyance despite herself – deep down the demon growled at the concept of a rival, even though the soul only tolerated the male teenager at best and considered McNally's desire for her irritating. Darla's demon had never considered Cordelia any kind of serious competition – she was thought of as an annoying child – but the undercover gypsy was a different kettle of fish, regardless of whether Giles was who Jenny wanted..

Still, all that was of no interest to Allan Finch right at this moment. Because at long last, here within the safety of his private office, he was holding the box containing the Orbs of Nezzla'khan.

The new Mayor of Sunnydale studied the two glass orbs carefully, after he opened the box. They were small, roughly the size of paintballs – and the Orbs were colored red, with white or gold symbols drawn on them. Slowly, reverently, Allan took them out of their box and held them together, side to side. He thought to himself, ( _Strength. Invulnerability. Everything I need to rule Sunnydale with an iron hand..._ )

Suddenly, a bright purple light exploded from each orb, surrounding Allan. The light began to pulse rhythmically from each globe, fusing them together; and then the purple light entered Finch's body. He gasped, as his eyes glowed purple. The man then started to laugh; feeling intoxicated by the power the Orbs had conferred upon him.

"Vampires of the world, beware," Allan Finch drawled, unknowingly echoing the words of Buffy's first Watcher, Merrick, from roughly a year ago.

TBC...


	8. New Order

See Part One for Disclaimer and details. Not much to say except a huge thank-you to everyone who's been reading and reviewing the story, and I hope you'll all continue to do so!

* * *

**Part Eight: New Order**

**Abandoned warehouse, Sunnydale**

**November 19th, 1997**

The warehouse lair of the Anointed One looked like a war zone, littered with vampire dust.

That was because a showdown had just now taken place against the vampires known as Kakistos and Mr. Trick, along with their minions, who had all relocated here from the East Coast. Kakistos, an ancient Greek vampire – someone who Cordelia could actually remember from the sixth century BC, thanks to memories inherited from the Oracle of Delphi – had heard that the Master was now dead, and so had decided to personally assume control of the Hellmouth.

Kakistos had seemed unimpressed by the Master's successor, dismissing Collin as an inexperienced child despite the power he could feel emanating from the Anointed One. After they'd arrived in the warehouse, the cloven-hoofed vampire had gestured to Mr. Trick to make the pronouncement that his sire would be taking over as the master vampire of Sunnydale.

No sooner had Trick uttered those words, though, there had been an undead all-in free-for-all. Vampire had fought vampire in a wild, uninhibited, lethal battle. The cannon fodder from both sides had quickly been annihilated – then Collin's minion, Lucius, had managed to stake Trick, before a bellowing Kakistos had ripped his head off in retaliation.

That had been a mistake, however. While Kakistos had been distracted with Lucius, Collin had casually reached for a weapon he'd inherited from the Master – a souvenir from the one of the few times that old Fruit-Punch Mouth had headed south of the equator.

Namely, an Australian boomerang with razor-sharp edges.

A simple flick of Collin's wrist, and Kakistos – just like the late Richard Wilkins before him – was nothing more than a memory, his decapitated head hitting the floor before his body had exploded into ash.

No doubt about it, the Anointed One's reputation as no one to be messed with was growing nicely.

"I'm sorry about the mess, sir. Uh, I'll get started on organizing the clean-up detail," Dalton said nervously. The bookish vampire had never been much of a brawler, and so he had more or less just defended his collection of scrolls and ancient tomes during the recent battle; which explained his current anxiety.

"Not yet, Dalton," Collin stated, before looking toward his newest minion and saying, in a deceptively mild tone, "Ford."

"Yes, master?" the fledgling came up to his sire at once.

"I noticed you didn't take part in the fighting," the Anointed One said, his voice full of silky venom.

"That's because I was the last-ditch line of defence, sir. If anything lethal looked like it was heading your way, the plan was for me to throw myself in front of you as a human – err, vampire – shield," Ford hastily corrected his minor slip-up. "Lucius gave me the duty."

"I see," Collin said with narrowed eyes. He couldn't be sure if the younger undead was a liar or not, given that Lucius was now conveniently dust; but no matter. If Ford was a useless coward, the Anointed One knew he'd discover it for himself soon enough.

"You don't see much of anything, I'm afraid."

The vampires whirled around to see a man in a suit coming towards them. He was wearing a ski mask over his head, so his face wasn't visible. Dalton demanded, "Who are you?"

"Oh, well, let's just say I'm the man who led Kakistos straight to your door. I see he's thinned the ranks a bit – you used to have, what, about forty to fifty vampires in here? I'd say there's less than half that remaining now," the mysterious stranger said, looking around. "Good job of work, if I do say so myself."

"You smell human to me," Ford spoke up, a look of hunger on his vampiric face. "So what's to stop us from feasting on your ass?"

The disguised Mayor Finch gestured with his head. "Look up."

The vampires did so, and saw Sunnydale's chief of police holding an FN-Browning rifle to his shoulder – Bob was standing there on the upper level of the warehouse. Ford's eyes went wide as he recognized the dark-green and cone-like item, with four extended wings, that was attached to the mouth of the rifle. As fast as he could, Ford jumped on top of the Anointed One and buried Collin beneath his body just as the human gunman opened fire.

The grenade, for that was what the cone-like item was, exploded and a blinding white light appeared – the result of the white phosphorous within the grenade making contact with the oxygen in the air.

The white light instantly ignited into a huge wall of flames, burning everything within a twenty-foot range and sending out a terrible shock wave that shattered glass and threw every bloodsucker that had managed to survive the raging inferno to the ground.

In one second, more than a dozen vampires had turned to ashes and the rest were dazed and confused, trying to regain their feet. So dazed and confused were they that the majority of the vamps never noticed Allan standing there in the midst of the devastation, unharmed by the detonation of the white phosphorus grenade.

"Damn it, get up! Move it!" Ford hissed at the nearby Dalton, as he grabbed his sire and carried Collin away to the emergency escape exit. Unsurprisingly, the scholarly vampire did not argue with the fledgling and just ran for it as fast as he could.

Those three were the only survivors as Allan exterminated every vampire left in the warehouse – they prevented the new Mayor from going after Collin until it was too late, and the Anointed One had had too much of a head start. The undead were all either too loyal or too stupid to take into account that they faced a human opponent who was invulnerable to physical harm. And it was all thanks to the Orbs of Nezzla'khan, which Finch had surgically implanted in his chest to prevent them from being taken from him.

Drusilla's last prophetic warning came to pass – or so one might have thought.

* * *

**No. 4 Parkview Crescent, Sunnydale**

**December 7th, 1997**

The Anointed One and his vastly depleted forces had been in hiding for a number of weeks now, even though a hate-filled Collin had been working on a plan to gain revenge on the masked human who had humiliated him. But at the moment, Cordelia Chase knew nothing about that – she was sitting in front of her vanity mirror and slowly brushing her hair, getting ready for bed and thinking about the recent past.

Last week, Buffy had been caught up in something awful. Her mother Joyce had gotten involved with a guy calling himself Ted Buchanan; a computer salesman and amateur cook. Even though, it turned out, he'd also been a serial killer and a psychotic robot. One night Ted had gone snooping in Buffy's bedroom and confronted her about the whole Vampire Slayer thing, after reading her diary – the homicidal machine had already decided to abduct Joyce to its underground bunker of love, and didn't want the troublemaker daughter interfering with its plans.

A fight had broken out, Buffy had gone into Slay mode and kicked Ted down the stairs in the heat of battle. The horrified Slayer had then believed she was guilty of killing a human, until the robot had come back to the house the next night and tried to both murder her and kidnap Joyce.

Needless to say, Ted had wound up on the scrap heap (of life) after the Chosen One was done hitting him with that skillet, and the Scooby Gang had gotten rid of the remains.

( _Why the heck did I ever let myself get involved with that mess, anyway_? ) the puzzled Cordelia asked herself. Even though, deep down, she already knew the answer.

The cold harsh truth was, she had done so because Xander Harris had chosen to do so.

( _Why can't I get that guy off my mind?_ ) Cordelia continued to cogitate. ( _Xander's sheer poison on my social position, if nothing else. My friends have already started to give me strange looks at cheerleader practice, and whenever we're at the Bronze. But if I start avoiding him and the Library Loser Legion, then the odds are I won't know when the latest monster of the week's about to strike. Urrgghhh!_ )

Of course, that wasn't strictly true as a vision appeared in Cordelia's mind.

Even after the past five weeks, Miss Chase still hadn't managed to gain any sort of control over her 'gift'. The visions came wherever and whenever they pleased, much to her chagrin. Still, Cordy had profited greatly from her mystical early warning system in the past – the visions had even saved her life during Halloween – and so she just sat there, experiencing the latest prophetic glimpse of the future.

In her mind's eye, Cordelia saw a female hand put a plain-looking egg into a very familiar-looking backpack. Later, the egg cracked open, and some sort of purplish-grey demon-y creature with tentacles appeared. The tentacles extended out of the backpack, popping out the eyes of an equally familiar teddy bear.

The last thing Cordy saw, though, was her own blank, expressionless face as she smashed Buffy Summers over the head with a metal bar of some sort.

* * *

**Sunnydale High Library, Sunnydale**

**December 8th, 1997**

Buffy stopped flipping through the Watcher diary in front of her when her two best friends came into the room. "Hey, guys."

Willow sat next to her gal pal while placing an egg on the table. "Buffy. How come you weren't in class?"

The Slayer sighed. "Vampire issues. Did Mr. Whitmore notice that I was tardy?"

"I think the word you mean is 'absent'," Jesse informed her.

Willow nodded. "Tardy people eventually show up. And yes, he noticed. So he told me to give you this."

Buffy took the offered egg with surprise. "As punishments go, this is fairly abstract."

"No, it's your baby," Willow told her with a smile.

"Okay, now I get it even less," Buffy said to that, her confusion growing.

Jesse leaned on the edge of the counter while playing with his egg. "Well, y'know, it's all about that whole 'sex leads to responsibility' issue. So you and your partner gotta take turns taking care of the egg; it's a baby, you gotta keep it safe for the next week or so in order to get a passing grade in Biology."

Buffy set the egg down, looking afraid for it. "Oh God, I can't do this...I can't take care of stuff! I killed my Giga Pet. Literally! I sat on it and it broke!"

"You'll do fine," Willow encouraged her.

"Hear, hear?" Jesse added uncertainly, before firming up his grin. "Buff, you'll make a great mom! Trust me, it's all gonna be okay."

Buffy smiled at her friend's attempt to cheer her up. "Hey, you mentioned something before about a partner...so who'd I get?"

Willow exchanged a glance with Jesse, before she looked back at Buffy with an apologetic expression. "Well. There were an uneven number of students – and you didn't show, so..."

"I'm a single mother?" Buffy demanded, eyes wide.

"I'm afraid so," Jesse nodded.

Willow shrugged. "You still did better than Xander Harris, though."

"What? Well, who'd he pick?" Buffy asked, while trying to suppress the constant fear that she was doomed to live her mother's life – namely, with no man of her own.

"Cordelia," Jesse replied at once. Even though he wasn't chasing after her anymore, he didn't just ignore what that girl did these days, either.

"Huh? I don't get it. Why the heck would Xander pick HER for something like this?" Buffy demanded. If there was anyone she'd thought Harris would avoid here at Sunnydale High, it was the stuck-up cheerleader who was practically a dark-haired clone of who she'd been back at Hemery.

"I don't know, Buff, but it was kinda weird. Cordy had this freaked-out expression on her face before Xander asked her to partner with him," Willow said musingly. "Ya think he could have been trying to help her out, maybe?"

At that moment, the library doors swung open and Xander came in holding his own egg. "Hey. What's up?" he said to the Scooby Gang.

"Nothing much," Buffy said awkwardly. Even after all these weeks, she and Xander had yet to resolve all their problems and she wasn't especially comfortable in his presence. That was the main reason why Harris was a definite outsider here at Slayer Central, even more so than Cordelia.

Xander shrugged. "Right, well, I just thought you'd like to know that I got another visit from Ford last night-"

"He's still around? 'Cause I, I was kinda hoping he'd left town," Willow said quickly, spying the look of pain and betrayal on Buffy's face.

"No such luck. Ford said he might pay your mom a visit, Summers – so for God's sake, make sure ya tell her not to invite him in already! Y'know, I still think it's stupid how Mrs. S doesn't know the truth-"

"I told you, Xander, I want some normality in my life! If Mom knew the truth, then I'd never be able to escape the Slayer thing, not even in my own home. And besides, what exactly would telling her accomplish? Well, apart from making my mother worry herself to death that one night, I won't be coming home alive?" Buffy demanded.

"Fine, have it your way," Xander shrugged again before Giles came over with an old book.

When Rupert set it down, it showed an old black and white photograph of two men in cowboy garb. Harris looked at the photo and frowned, "Who are these guys?"

"The two vampires Buffy encountered last night at the mall – this one's Lyle Gorch, the other one is his brother Tector. They're from Abilene; apparently, they made their reputation by massacring a Mexican village in 1886," Giles said academically.

Buffy wrinkled her nose at that, recalling – just like Jesse and Willow – her Halloween adventure a few weeks ago. "Friendly little demons..."

"That was before they became vampires, actually," Giles informed her. Off everyone's looks, he added, "The good news is they're not among the greatest thinkers of our time. I doubt they're up to much; the Gorches were probably just drawn here by the Hellmouth's energy. It should be easy to..."

Giles trailed off, as he noticed something. "Excuse me, but why do you all have eggs?"

Any explanation that would have come from the teenage quartet concerning that was cut off when Cordelia barged into the library. She marched right up to Xander and said, "The egg, give it to me!"

Xander shrugged – the guy made a mental note how he was doing that a lot today – and gave it to her. Cordelia set the egg down on the floor and grabbed one of Giles' books. "This had better not get on my shoes," she remarked acidly, before the brunette slammed the book down hard on the egg.

"Hey!" Xander grabbed her arm, completely pissed over what she'd done. "What did you do that for? Now we're BOTH gonna flunk Biology!"

Cordelia yanked her arm away and gestured to Buffy's Watcher. "Giles, get over here!"

"Cordelia," Giles came over to her. "Do you have any idea how old that book is..." he trailed off when Miss Chase flipped the book over. "Oh, good Lord!"

"What the hell is that thing?" Jesse demanded, as he came around and got a look at the dead demon.

Giles leaned down and examined the squished Bezoar infant. "I, I'm honestly not sure. Some sort of demon, though, obviously."

Buffy looked at Cordelia and Xander. "That thing was in your egg?" She and Willow shared a look before they jumped back from the table, and their own eggs. "Ewww!"

Giles ran to the book cage and grabbed a clear plastic case. "Quickly, put the other eggs in here."

Buffy complied, just before one egg started to crack open. A tentacle quickly burst forth, and so the Slayer reacted on instinct. Grabbing Giles' book, she yanked the plastic cover off and bashed both eggs with it, killing the demon infants instantly.

"Whew! Way to go, Buffy," Willow exhaled in relief.

"Hang on a second – guys, we gotta do something about the rest of those eggs, right? I mean, Mr. Whitmore handed them out to everyone in class today – and it's not just us! I heard the egg parenting thing is also happening for the senior Biology class, and the sophomore one as well..." Jesse trailed off, a look of dread on his face.

"You're right," Buffy nodded. "Will, fire up the computer – we have to make a list of everybody who mighta gotten one of those, those – THINGS!"

While Willow, Jesse and Buffy rushed towards the computer terminal, Giles stared at the Chase girl for a moment before joining the rest of the core four. Xander dragged Cordelia up into the stacks and said, "Okay, I have a question. How'd you know what was the what, with those demon eggs? And don't say it was just a lucky guess or something – 'cause you obviously knew, right from the start!"

Cordy looked at him before she said, "If I tell you, then you have to promise me that you'll keep it a secret. Okay? No one else knows, especially not the loser squad downstairs!"

"Why don't you want them to know?"

"I have my reasons," Cordy said stiffly, before seeing that Xander was unconvinced. "Fine, then how about this? Quid pro quo, if I tell you one of my secrets, then you gotta tell me one of yours. That's fair enough, right?"

Xander shrugged yet again. "Yeah, I guess."

"You go first," Cordelia insisted; she figured that if nothing else, this would make the new boy in town open up to her a little.

"All right. I have no idea what I'm doing here in Sunnydale."

"Huh?" Cordy didn't get that.

"Don't you remember? My mom's ghost said that the PTBs need me here to help prevent the end of the world, or whatever. But I have no idea what that involves, or even when it's gonna happen! I kinda feel like an actor who's about to go out on stage and make a complete fool of myself, because nobody bothered to give me a copy of the script and I never even got to rehearse my lines. Is that satisfactory enough for you?" Xander demanded roughly.

"Geez, you don't have to be such a big grouch about it!" the dark-haired girl replied angrily, before she calmed down. "And a deal's a deal, I guess, so to answer your original question – I had a...I saw one of them, Harris. I saw it hatch, and I – I saw myself maybe kill Buffy after it happened. I had a...well, I had a vision about it," Cordelia confessed.

"You had a what?" Xander exclaimed.

"A VISION! What are you, deaf or deficient?" Cordelia spat out. "Ugh! You're not the only one on a Halloween-induced acid trip, okay? I've been having these flashes ever since that night, but they're like totally useless. I can't control them or anything," she huffed in frustration, clearly annoyed by that fact. "I mean, is it too much to ask that if I gotta be a freak – well, why shouldn't I be able to know what the upcoming spring fashions will be like, or the numbers for the lotto jackpot?" She then glared at Xander like it was entirely his fault, asking, "Really, is that too much to ask?"

Shaking her head, Cordelia quickly continued, "Anyway, last night I was combing my hair after getting ready for bed – and people just don't get how important proper brushing is for hair like mine to look this good, decent hair care products only go so far, ya know! – and then I went all Margo Lane and saw THAT thing," she gestured downstairs in the direction of the dead infant demon, "using my body like some kinda hand-puppet. Then today, we get those eggs in class? Yeah, I don't think so. So I took care of the problem!

"NOW do you understand why I want this kept QUIET?" Cordy hissed at him, glancing around to make sure they hadn't been overheard.

"I guess," Xander nodded, he knew Cordelia well enough to understand how important appearances were to her. "All right, fine – if that's the situation, then I'll keep your secret for now. But I'm pretty sure that the Watcher guy is suspicious, and he might grill you the same way I did-"

"Giles? Oh please, the day I can't deal with his passive-aggressive Earl Grey attitude is the day I start wearing clothes from Wal-Mart!" Cordelia said scornfully. "Come on, let's get this over with. I wanna get out of Loserville as soon as possible. And remember – not one peep to anybody!"

* * *

**Sunnydale High Library, Sunnydale**

**December 9th, 1997**

Perhaps unsurprisingly, nobody had noticed that Xander and Cordelia had briefly talked alone in the stacks yesterday. After Willow had finished compiling her list of students, the Watcher had sent the five teens off to track those kids down, and, if possible, retrieve their eggs. Unfortunately, though, the gang had eventually come back and told Rupert that the other students had already left for the day, and that they couldn't find Mr. Whitmore, either.

With no other option, after sunset Giles had sent Buffy out on patrol to look for Lyle and Tector Gorch, whilst he had settled in for an all-night research session concerning the Bezoar eggs.

Twelve hours later, Buffy and Jesse came into the library, joining Willow and Giles. "Ah, Buffy. Uh, anything happen during your patrol last night? Did you perchance, um, encounter the Gorch brothers?" Giles asked at once.

"Nope. No sign of the Wonder Twins OR any other vamps – even Darla was a no-show. No demons, either; it was pretty much Deadsville everywhere," the blonde girl reported. "I had a freaky Slayer dream after I got home, though."

"Slayer dream?" Willow asked.

"Yeah, it was like the one I had last month – only the two guest-starring vampires this time were Ford, and this skinny, crazy-ass British chick calling herself Drusilla," Buffy shuddered at the memory.

"Hey, I've heard of her – Darla mentioned her once. She was part of that whole 'Scourge of Europe' group, right?" Jesse spoke up.

"Yes," Giles nodded, having read up on that vampire pack after Spike had been dusted. "Buffy, what happened, exactly, d-during your dream?"

The Slayer scowled. "The usual cryptic, non-helpful conversation – Crazy Girl said, and I quote, 'he'll separate the righteous from the wicked, pet, and burn the righteous down. And only my kitten can help you.' Then that thing with Xander coming out of the ocean looking like the Jolly Green Giant's tiny pyro cousin happened again. Maxi-gross, if you ask me."

"What could something like that mean?" Willow looked around at Buffy, Jesse and Rupert in turn. "Giles, is there any sort of, of mystical fire that's green in color?"

"Not as far as I know," Giles frowned. Even though at the back of his mind, a very faint bell was ringing somewhere.

"Yeah, I can't figure it out, either..." Buffy exhaled. "Anyway, anything happen around here last night?"

"Zip. Nada. Nothing," Willow said disappointedly, Giles having already filled her in on that. But the redhead suddenly perked up as she remembered something. "Oh! I should mention Mr. Whitmore has health class first period and his car's not in the lot because I checked and it wasn't there, I'm sure of it!" she babbled in a mix of worry and excitement.

"Morning, everyone," Jenny said as she came into the library. She and Giles had reconciled around the time Ted had almost abducted Joyce, and so the undercover spy for the Kalderash tribe had started frequenting the library again these days.

"G'morning, Ms. Calendar," Jesse said, his eyes lighting up immediately at the sight of the beautiful older woman.

( _Dear God, I can't believe I've actually started competing with Jesse over one of his lust bunny crushes! )_ Willow thought desperately, trying to ignore her own recently developed attraction to the female teacher. Then she said, "So, I guess we're still at square one with that whole 'demons in the class eggs' thing?"

"What?" Jenny asked in confusion. "Demons in the class eggs?"

Giles briefly explained the events of yesterday to her. "I've been researching all night, but I-I've yet to identify what kind of demon it is we're dealing with, unfortunately."

"Have you tried looking through Hume's Paranormal Encyclopedia?" Jenny asked.

Shaking his head for not thinking of that book himself, Giles flipped through it before he abruptly stopped and said excitedly, "Oh – yes, yes, I'd say this is it!" He pointed at a sketch of a disk-shaped, tentacled monster. "It says here, 'Bezoar demon: a pre-prehistoric parasite. The mother hibernates underground, laying eggs. The offspring then attach themselves to a host, taking control of their motor functions through neural clamping'."

"'Neural clamping'? Whatever the hell that is, it sounds skippable to me," Jesse grimaced.

"Indeed," Giles mused. "It also says here that the mother and the offspring are connected via that same neural mechanism. So kill the mother Bezoar, and all her offspring will also die."

"Okay, so how do we find momma demon? And kill it?" Buffy looked eager to do her duty as some sort of Slayer therapy for her bad dream the previous night.

"We should do a locator spell; that'd probably be the quickest way," Jenny suggested.

"Oooh, a locator spell?" Willow's eyes lit up at the thought of doing magic, much in the same way as they did when the Computer Science teacher had entered the room.

"I'll do it," Giles brutally crushed Willow's hopes with a disapproving frown. "Right, let's set up..."

Just then, the first bell of the day rang. "Oh, blast," Giles cursed.

"I've got a meeting with the vice-principal soon," Jenny looked at her watch. "And unfortunately, I need to get ready for it right now."

"Plus we've got homeroom," Jesse looked around at his girls.

"Go, all of you. Buffy, meet me here again as soon as you can; hopefully, I-I-I'll have determined the location of the mother Bezoar by the time you get back," Giles said, before everyone else departed and the British man grabbed the crushed remains of one of the demon infants to use as the focus of the scrying spell.

* * *

**Sunnydale High Basement, Sunnydale**

**A few hours later**

Buffy, Willow, Jesse, Xander, Cordelia, Giles and Jenny were all trooping along, the Watcher and the Computer Science teacher using their flashlights as they all looked for any trace of the mother Bezoar. To everyone's great surprise, the locator spell had indicated that the demon was almost directly beneath their feet, underneath the school.

"I still can't believe I'm actually here doing this," Cordelia complained. "Ugh, my shoes are gonna be ruined from all the dust and grime – and Manolo Blahniks don't exactly grow on trees, you know-"

"Cordelia?" Willow interrupted. "Kinda needing to focus here. We've got a demon to find, remember?"

"Yeah. So, if it's all too much for you and you wanna go back upstairs – feel free," Buffy tossed out, as Cordelia glared at her for the perceived insult.

"Oooh, what's that?" Jesse pointed over to the side of the room. He thought he could see something in between a stack of boxes.

"Just a moment," Giles frowned, as she and Jenny gave their flashlights to the teenagers and started to move the boxes.

Unfortunately, though, that was a big mistake.

Because Mr. Whitmore, who had been neural-clamped by one of the Bezoar offspring the previous night, came out of the hole in the wall which the boxes had been hiding. As he did so, he started swinging a pickaxe; and it connected with Xander's head despite Buffy's efforts to stop it. Luckily it was just a glancing blow, but it was still enough to knock Harris out and put him down for the count.

"XANDER!" Cordelia screamed, as Giles and Jenny moved out of the way and Buffy charged forward, ducking the pickaxe and hitting the Biology teacher without pulling her punch at all. Mr. Whitmore flew back, the broken jaw a testament to the Chosen One's supernatural strength – and the possessed Biology teacher hit the basement wall out cold, collapsing into a heap.

"Oh God, Xander..." Cordelia said fearfully as she and Willow went over to examine the unconscious male teenager. Miss Chase then exhaled in relief, "He's still alive!"

"We need to get him to a hospital, right now," Willow declared as she started to examine Harris as well.

But then, there was a worst-timing-ever moment as the Gorch brothers showed up in the basement. "Hello, darlin'. Told you we'd be meeting again soon, didn't I?" Lyle sneered at Buffy.

"Yeah!" Tector said, looking at the female Slayer hungrily. "She's so cute. And little. Think we can keep her?"

Then both vampires recoiled from Giles stepping forward with a cross in his hand. "Get back!" the Englishman snarled at the two soulless demons. "NOW!"

Buffy didn't waste another second, she charged forward with a stake in her hand. A sweeping roundhouse kick sent Lyle staggering off to the side, but Tector wasn't so lucky. Buffy punched him in the face, before launching her stake directly towards his unprotected chest.

The undead cowboy exploded into dust, the skeleton appearing and disappearing in less than an instant.

"TECTOR! You bitch, that was my brother!" Lyle roared in his own special redneck way.

"You're gonna join him soon enough," Buffy promised the bloodsucker. After what had happened to Xander, she was in no mood to indulge in the usual quips, so Buffy just headed straight towards her enemy in order to kick undead ass.

Now, as Giles had said, Lyle wasn't the greatest thinker of his time – but he wasn't exactly stupid, either. The vampire knew that he was badly outnumbered, and facing the Slayer on his own under these circumstances didn't sit well with his sense of self-preservation. So Lyle turned around and hightailed it out of there, without another word.

The group swiftly broke up into two camps: Willow, Cordelia and Jenny took Xander to the hospital, while Giles, Jesse and Buffy went through the hole in the wall and discovered the lair of the mother Bezoar. Miss Summers then quickly terminated the demon with extreme prejudice.

Almost like Allan Finch had terminated Ethan Rayne, not all that long ago.

TBC...


	9. Release

See Part One for Disclaimer and details. Hello, everybody! Welcome to the latest chapter of the story – and thank you, one and all, those who have continued to read and review the story! Your feedback and reviews really do keep me going. Joel, you're not the first to wonder about who ends up with who in this fic. But all I'll say at this point is that I'll try to channel my inner Joss, and hopefully surprise you all. :) Anyway, on with the fanfic...

* * *

**Part Nine: Release**

**Restfield Cemetery, Sunnydale**

**December 12th, 1997**

Rory Harris stared at his seventeen-year-old nephew, after they'd arrived for the annual visit to the graves of his brother and sister-in-law. The experience was somewhat different this year, as there hadn't been a long car journey all the way from Los Angeles – but Rory couldn't help feeling that somehow, that just made things worse.

To be honest, the taxidermist was beginning to regret moving back here to Sunnydale. He'd initially thought it would be a good thing, for both himself and Xander. Rory had hoped that it would give the boy a chance to make a fresh start away from Hemery High School and find some friends in a smaller, more tightly knit community.

Instead, right from the outset the kid had complained that this town was giving off bad vibes, as well as being two hours away from the nearest Krispy Kreme – which Xander whined about, any time the word 'doughnut' was even hinted at in conversation.

( _I guess he had a point, though – that gas leak and the riots during Halloween didn't exactly say 'welcome to Sunnydale', did they,_ ) Rory thought to himself. ( _Neither did that accident at the school a few days ago. Still, at least Alexander wasn't seriously injured. I can't help wondering, though, where the heck did he learn to speak Vietnamese? To think he started babbling away in that language, while he was tossing and turning in his sleep at the hospital..._ )

"Rory? Ya mind giving me a few minutes privacy here?" Xander suddenly spoke up.

"Sure, kid. Whatever you want," Rory nodded and quickly took a walk, hoping that the young man would be in a better mood when he returned.

Xander absently rubbed the Special Forces tattoo on his right arm, right below the green beret. He knew his uncle was worried about him, but didn't know what to say about his concerns. Xander didn't really know what to say either; the sad fact was that they hadn't been all that close since puberty had set in, and the teenager had realized just what happened during the monthly 'parties' Rory felt the need to indulge in.

( _What the hell am I doing in this town?_ ) Xander asked himself yet again, staring at his mother's grave. ( _I'm supposed to help save the world? God damn it, I'M the one that constantly needs to be saved! Summers saved my life when Ford knocked me out that night, and she did it again the other day when it was Mr. Whitmore's turn. If I'm the only hope for the future, then the Earth is doomed!_ )

Xander made a decision at that moment. He knew that Soldier Guy would never have been taken by surprise by the possessed Biology teacher; he'd been too experienced in the ways of combat. So Xander decided to stop trying to forget everything about that guy's life, and attempt to develop the leftover military skills for his own use. He still remembered all the procedures, so it was just a matter of...

"Hi, Xander."

Harris turned around, and saw Buffy, Willow and Cordelia standing there. "What are you guys doing here?" he asked in surprise.

Cordelia gestured to Buffy and Willow. "These two were all worried about you, especially since you recovered from that head injury way faster than you should have, like some kinda freak, and I just wanted to say happy birthday and all."

The blonde and the redhead stared at the brunette with their mouths hanging open. "Cordy, have you ever even remotely heard of the word 'tact'?" Buffy eventually asked in sheer disbelief.

"Tact is just coddling the weak. I'll pass; it saves me a lot of time that way," Miss Chase replied disdainfully.

"It also explains why your popular friends say all the things they do about you, behind your back," Willow interjected, which caused Cordelia to send her a dirty look.

"Ladies, please," Xander had to repress a smirk at the female antics. "I appreciate the thought, but I'm fine. And thanks for the sentiment, Cordelia, but I don't celebrate my birthday. Never have, ever since I was three."

"I remember," Buffy nodded slowly. "I always thought it was odd, y'know, when we were little. You were always invited to my birthday party, at least before I was ten, but I was never invited to yours..."

"What can I say, Summers? Rory always brought me here to the undead version of Pleasantville, instead," Xander shrugged.

"Uh, I gotta ask – why do you always call Buffy 'Summers' like that?" Willow asked hesitantly. "I mean, I-I've never heard you use her first name..."

"Yeah, me neither. What gives?" Cordelia frowned, staring at Harris.

"Old habit I picked up from Ford," Xander said shortly, not liking to think about his vampire acquaintance.

"Yeah, uh, what's happening with that guy lately?" Willow asked, looking at Buffy.

"He came to visit me at the hospital. Said that some of his buddies had come to snack on the coma ward patients, and apparently, Ford wanted to make sure I wasn't on the menu as well," Xander said, grimacing.

"That is so weird, how you've got your own vampire stalker like that. Really makes me glad that I'm not living in your shoes," Cordy said as tactlessly as usual, even though Xander didn't take offense at her words.

"So everything's okay?" Buffy asked Harris. "No other undead encounters of the third kind?"

"I, uh, spoke to Darla the other night; she came to visit me, too. I was wondering if anyone could pull off that soul restoration thing for Ford, like what happened with her," Xander confessed. "But she told me how those gypsies did that sort of thing strictly for revenge, and I wouldn't be doing Ford any favors cursing him that way. Then again, Ford's soul is probably in Hell for getting all those people killed in that club, so..."

"Nah, forget it. I hate to say it, after all those years we knew him – but Ford was a lying scumbag who was willing for both of us to die, as long as that meant he could become a walking corpse," Buffy said, all her memories of her former boyfriend poisoned by their final conversation and confrontation in the Sunset Club.

Just then, Rory returned from his walk – and he was surprised to see that his nephew had company. "Hello..."

"Oh, hi, Mr. Harris," Buffy said, as she was the only one who knew the taxidermist apart from Xander.

Rory squinted at the somewhat familiar-looking girl. "Wait a...Buffy? Little Buffy Summers? My God, but how you've grown! I haven't seen you for years, what are you doing here?"

"Uh, I live in Sunnydale now," Buffy explained with a small smile. "Me and my mom moved here during sophomore year, after my parents got divorced."

"I see. Well, I hope Joyce is okay. I haven't seen her for ages, either," Rory replied.

"She's fine. Oh, Mom has an art gallery here in town, it's on the corner of Maple Court and Main Street; you should drop by sometime. I'm sure she'll be glad to see you, and you guys can catch up," Buffy said graciously.

"Thanks, sweetie. I think I'll do just that..." Rory switched his gaze to Cordy and Willow. "And who might you two visions of loveliness be?"

"Rory, this is Cordelia Chase and this is Willow Rosenberg. They go to school with me and Summers," Xander explained as the two female teens blushed at the older man's praise.

"Chase...Rosenberg...uh, hang on, I know those names from somewhere..." Rory mused, before his eyes went wide and he snapped his fingers. "Wait a minute! Are your parents David and Julia Chase, and Ira and Sheila Rosenberg?"

"Well, yeah," Cordelia said, sharing a confused look with Willow.

"Is there, like, a problem?" the redhead asked.

"No, it's just – my God! It's been exactly fourteen years to the day, since I last saw you two kids," Rory shook his head in amazement. "You've both grown up so much since my brother and his wife were killed in that fire..."

"What?" Xander demanded in shock.

"These two girls were there that day, at your third birthday party," Rory explained to his nephew as a number of teenage eyes went wide. "Their parents were friends with Tony and Jessica; heck, in high school your mother was best friends with Sheila Rosenberg, and your father was the same thing with David Chase. Oh, the stories I could tell you-"

"Maybe some other time," Xander abruptly cut his uncle off, staring at the two female teenagers in question. It was obvious they hadn't known, and that Cordelia and Willow were stunned by the older man's words.

Xander could not help wondering how this latest revelation might be related to his mother's story that he'd originally had a destiny here in Sunnydale. If Jessica had survived and Tony hadn't become a demon, thanks to those Wishes, he would have grown up in Sunnydale with his parents instead of Los Angeles with Rory.

And from the sounds of things, most likely he would have been friends with Cordelia and Willow as well...

* * *

**Unknown demon dimension**

**December 24th, 1997**

It was Christmas Eve, as Allan Finch materialized in a darkened chamber with skulls worked into the stone walls all around him.

The new Mayor of Sunnydale had been quite busy since the day he had slaughtered all those vampires in Collin's warehouse. Unlike Richard Wilkins, Allan had no supernatural power to speak of, despite empowering himself with the Orbs of Nezzla'khan; the Orbs granted him physical strength and invulnerability, but that was it. Thus, dealing with the magical attacks upon his person had forced him to realize that he needed help in that department.

Allan had consulted with a number of people in Sunnydale about his problem, including a disreputable magic dealer called Rack. The wizard had told him that there had once existed creatures called Wish demons – or 'vengeance' or 'justice' demons depending on who you talked to. All those demons – who had originally been human females – had eventually been wiped out after their leader, D'Hoffryn, had been assassinated fourteen years ago.

With one possible exception, according to a vague bar rumor that could be traced back to one of Skip's drinking binges.

D'Hoffryn's former second-in-command, the demoness named Anyanka.

Intrigued, Finch had paid Rack well to follow up on that rumor. The possibilities had been fascinating – because having your own demonic genie to grant you wishes would have appealed to any politician throughout the world, and Allan had figured that if he could find Anyanka and free her, she might make a very good Deputy Mayor of Sunnydale.

After all – unlike Wilkins, Finch had to worry about getting himself re-elected every few years, and a female running mate would definitely improve his chances of snagging the chick vote in town. Not that Allan would ever use the phrase 'chick vote' out loud, of course, or at least not anywhere the voting public might hear him.

Eventually, Rack had acquired a special coin and an equally special key from a couple of places within the Chinatown district of Los Angeles. After returning to Sunnydale, he had handed them over to his employer, along with instructions on how to use them; and so, after using the interdimensional transport device, Allan had arrived here.

"Gotta love the décor in this place," Allan muttered sarcastically to himself, as he picked up the mystical transporter and put it in the inside pocket of his jacket. He then spotted a doorway to a room lit by fire at the bottom of a fight of steps, and slowly walked towards it.

As he entered the room, Allan saw a screaming human-shaped being engulfed in flames, inside a burning cube. "Ah, so that rumor was true..."

"Hi there. You know you're not supposed to be here, right?"

Allan turned around, examining the tall, spike-encrusted, silver demon staring at him. "Hello. And yes, I'm well aware of that. Say – your name wouldn't happen to be Skip, by any chance, would it?"

"Yeah, it is. Have we met?" the mercenary demon, who didn't look any different since the day he had imprisoned Halfrek and Anyanka in this chamber, asked suspiciously.

"No, no. My name's Allan Finch, by the way," the new Mayor said politely. "Oh, I just want to confirm – that is Anyanka in there screaming her lungs out, isn't it?"

"Sure is." Skip grimaced, as the screaming was abruptly cut off by an application of his will. There was only so much of it he could listen to, before it started to bug the crap out of him. "There, that's better." Skip then turned back to Allan and said, "So what are ya doing here?"

"I'm here to rescue her," Allan admitted candidly, gesturing at Anyanka.

"You're kidding, right? I mean, why would you wanna do that?" Skip asked in honest confusion. "'Cause there's a reason why she's here, apart from pissing off one of the Powers That Be. Namely, that demon girl's nuttier than a fruitcake! Eleven hundred years, and she's killed more guys than I've had hot dinners. So why the heck would you want to release someone like that?"

"Politics. I have certain plans in mind where she's concerned," Allan replied cryptically.

"Oh, you're a politician!" Skip exclaimed, as the light began to dawn. "So, then, I really can't talk you out of this."

"No, I'm afraid not," Allan declared, right before Skip hit him full in the face. "Now that was just rude." He grabbed hold of Skip by the neck, who was still astounded over how the human – he HAD to be a human, that smell was unmistakable – had managed to shrug off a blow that should have shattered his skull in half.

"What's keeping her trapped in that cage?" Allan asked calmly, releasing his grip enough for Skip to speak – even though the struggling silver demon was now dangling high up off the ground.

"My conscious will," Skip replied, unable to believe this was happening to him.

Allan nodded and brought Skip back down. With a mighty punch, he slugged the mercenary directly in the face – which sent Anyanka's jailer straight to dreamland.

Letting the unconscious Skip fall to the floor, Allan turned to study the prisoner behind him. He saw a naked, soot-smeared woman in her late twenties with a green pendant around her neck, who was staring around in wonder – before she turned her gaze upon Finch.

( _Okay, she's not exactly what you'd call 'stable',_ ) Allan thought to himself, as Anyanka ran to the cage bars and started screaming to be let out, promising horrible vengeance upon him if he didn't comply instantly with her orders. ( _Still, all I have to do is gain her loyalty somehow, and she might be useful._ )

"SHUT UP!" Allan then yelled at Anyanka, as he effortlessly lifted Skip up off the floor. "Or do you want me to wake him up, and you can start hollering in agony all over again?"

At once Anyanka shut her mouth, even though she kept glaring at Allan in vivid hate.

"That's better," Finch exhaled. "Now listen carefully. I came here to rescue you-"

"That's ridiculous!" Anyanka said, her eyes clouded over with insanity. "Now let's play a game called 'hide and seek'. I hide, you seek. And when you're not looking, the bunny rabbits will gobble you up, starting with your bottom!"

( _Definitely madder than Norman Bates in 'Psycho', _) Finch thought, shaking his head. "I've got a better idea. Why don't we play 'tear the head off the demon who tortured you for fourteen years' instead, hmm?"

Anyanka's eyes widened, as Allan placed Skip's head in her hands outside the cage bars. "Wha..."

"Just a moment – and hold on tight." The demoness did so as Finch pulled with all his strength on the mercenary's body, and with a terrible ripping noise Skip's head came away cleanly from his neck.

Anyanka saw the silver head in her hands start to drip black blood all over the floor. The surprise factor was so great, she dropped Skip's head and backed away from the cube's bars. "Wha..."

"I'll explain everything in a moment." Allan used the superhuman strength conferred upon him by the Orbs to bend apart two of the cage bars, far enough to let the dazed and confused Anyanka out of her prison.

The insane woman just stared at her savior in complete bewilderment, as he took out the mystical transporter and sent both of them to Sunnydale. Within City Hall, Anyanka listened as Allan told her that she was now the last of her kind, and that he wanted for her to join him in ruling the Hellmouth.

After a long time, despite the odds and despite her intense hatred for men and the human world in general, Anyanka became unerringly loyal to Allan Finch for saving her from an eternity of torture and pain.

* * *

**1175 Hadley Street, Sunnydale**

**December 25th, 1997**

It was Christmas morning, and all over Sunnydale various people were celebrating the holiday season in various ways.

Willow and Jesse were watching 'A Charlie Brown Christmas' at his house, the same way they did every year – although McNally absolutely refused to do the Snoopy Dance, as a matter of principle.

Cordelia was having an erotic dream about the one boy in school that she couldn't have. Nobody had woken her up yet – as her parents had decided to take off to Aspen on a whim, and the hired help had the day off to spend with their own families.

Xander and Rory were opening each other's presents at the Harris residence, and Buffy and Joyce were doing the exact same thing at 1630 Revello Drive. Giles and Darla were alone within their own homes, neither of them having any family to share this special day with.

That left Jenny Calendar, or Janna of the Kalderash people as she was otherwise known.

"Good morning, Uncle. Did you sleep well?" Jenny asked, as the unexpected guest from last night came out of the spare bedroom.

"Well enough," Enyos of the Kalderash grunted in his East European accent.

"Good. Would you like me to make you some breakfast?" Jenny asked.

"Later," Enyos told his niece. "As I said last night, we need to talk. Sit."

Jenny did so. Enyos sat down as well and said, "The elder woman of our people has been reading the signs and portents. She says something is different."

"Nothing has changed with the vampire, as far as I know. Darla's curse still holds," Jenny told him.

But Enyos insisted, "The elder woman is never wrong. She says the beast's rage at being confined is growing. It suffers more now than it has for nearly a century. Understand, Janna – I am commending you, not admonishing you for what has happened," the gypsy stated bluntly. "Still, I must know why this has come to pass."

Jenny exhaled after thinking it over for a few seconds. "Well, this is just a guess, you understand – but you remember how I informed you in my letters, that Darla is associated with the Slayer and her friends? That she fights the evil here at their side?"

"Yes," Enyos replied with a look which said he STILL found that very hard to believe.

"Well, there is a boy who...who lusts after her. A friend of the Slayer, who doesn't care that Darla is a vampire – an unclean corpse," Jenny said, leaning back. "Previously, I never thought much about it, as Darla has always seemed to ignore Jesse's interest; as far as I know, he's never even managed to get to the hand-holding stage with her. And he is a teenage boy, fickle as such boys often are, so lately – lately, I believe Jesse has begun to focus less on the vampire and more on..."

"Who?"

"Me," Jenny said in acute embarrassment.

"WHAT?" Enyos shouted. "How could you let this happen, Janna? To think that a, an impudent gadje child would ever dare to-!"

"Jesse is my student at the school, and I have given him no more encouragement than Darla has. However, this is America – and, more often than not, the heart wants what it wants and pays no attention to what the head is telling it. You know this, Uncle," Jenny told him. The undercover spy wisely left unmentioned how she had guessed that Willow's sexual orientation had shifted since Halloween, so that the red-haired girl also considered Jenny the object of her affections; the intolerant and parochial Enyos might actually have a stroke at hearing THAT news.

Most likely so would Giles, Jenny's official boyfriend.

"Americans," Enyos growled, accepting the truth of his niece's statement. "Well, so be it. And yes, all that WOULD explain why the demon's rage is growing. It must consider that fool you've described as its personal property, even if – as you say – the soul does not appear to care for him much. So you should take care in the future, Janna; and see to it that that boy learns the error of his ways, somehow. We should not take any risks that he will make the vampire truly happy."

"I don't understand. What does it matter if Darla is truly happy?" Jenny asked in confusion.

"The curse, Janna. One moment of true happiness, of contentment, one moment where the soul that we restored no longer plagues her thoughts...and that soul is gone, the beast unleashed once more," Enyos said tersely.

"The curse can be broken? Then, if somehow, if it ever happens..." Jenny trailed off, looking shocked. "Oh my God! Why didn't anyone tell me about this before now?"

"You did not ask," Enyos shrugged. "Now, my niece, let us break our fast together. The time for talking is over, at least for the moment."

* * *

**The Master's cave, somewhere underneath Sunnydale**

**January 1st, 1998**

The Anointed One didn't like this place anymore. Once upon a time, it had been his home – a secure area, and the Master's personal domain. But now the Master was dead and the cavern was dusty, smelly and often crawling with rats, although some of the minions who still had dirt behind their ears willingly took care of them. Once he was ready, the little boy vampire was planning to move back above ground – where IT had happened.

Collin tried not to think of the humiliation he'd suffered over a month ago. Such thoughts always put him in a bad mood, although he made sure not to show it in front of the troops. Temper tantrums made Collin look childish, and he knew it. Of course, technically, he was a child and would always be one. But that had its downside: after the slaughter at the warehouse, Ford and Dalton were the only vampires left who'd been aware of his reputation and his association with the Master.

Ever since that terrible day, Collin had had his undead lieutenants creating new vampires from among the human populace to replenish the ranks, but – the fledglings didn't know anything about him or the Master, and were unimpressed with the prepubescent boy they were introduced to as their new liege lord. A lot of them had to be beaten into submission, and even then they only served him sullenly, looking for any opportunity to defect to greener pastures.

Recruiting was also difficult with the Slayer at large. Something had to be done about her, as well as his masked enemy – and the Anointed One had already set his plan in motion for that. ( _Now, if only that damned minion of mine would return..._ )

Collin looked up as said minion arrived into the cavernous space. "Well?"

Ford marched up to his sire with a crate on his shoulder. "Sorry I'm late, master. It was New Year's Eve last night, so there was nobody at the dock to unload the ship's cargo and I had to-"

"Shut up. Now, put it down and get out," Collin ordered Fordham crossly, and luckily for the teenage vampire's continued existence Ford instantly obeyed his sire's orders.

Slowly, the Anointed One lifted the long box out from the crate and opened it. A demonic blue leg covered in medieval armor rested inside; it was part of the apocalypse demon known as the Judge. Something that, whilst unkillable, had been dismembered over six centuries ago, and its body parts scattered to the four corners of the globe.

The end of the world was coming, as all the king's horses and all the king's men could definitely put THIS demon back together again.

TBC...


	10. Surprises

See Part One for Disclaimer and details. Hey, everybody, welcome to chapter ten! And as always, a big thank-you to everyone who's reviewed and sent feedback so far. Okay, time to ratchet up the action a bit: we're heading towards the events of 'Surprise' and 'Innocence', and I hope you enjoy the show. And don't forget to hit that review link at the bottom of the page! Right, let's go...

* * *

**Part Ten: Surprises**

**Sunnydale High School Parking Lot, Sunnydale**

**January 15th, 1998**

Jenny Calendar's life was very complicated right now. She'd had to talk to Jesse and Willow about their feelings for her, in a strictly one-on-one setting, of course. At the same time, she'd had to keep a close eye on Darla without the vampiress getting suspicious of her interest. She'd also had to try to think of a way of warning everyone about the loophole in the curse, without revealing who she really was. And to top it all off, there was dealing with her boyfriend...

Rupert Giles. The man who was responsible for the baby gestating within her womb right now.

( _What am I going to do?_ ) Jenny asked herself for what felt like the millionth time. ( _Dear God, I'm six weeks pregnant by a man whom my family will never accept, and who doesn't even know my real name. What am I going to tell Rupert – sorry, but just about everything you know about me is a lie? And oh, by the way, I'm going to give birth to your child in about seven and a half months?_ )

Unfortunately, Jenny had no more time to ponder such questions. Just as she got to her car, a female demon appeared out of nowhere before her. Jenny screamed, "AHHHHHHH!"

"No need for that," Anyanka said, staring Jenny directly in the eyes. "You smell."

"I – what?" Jenny asked, once she'd recovered from the shock of seeing a demon appear in broad daylight.

"Pregnant. You smell pregnant. My friend Hallie would have been so happy to know that. The odds are she'd have been summoned to deliver some quality vengeance for your child, in five or ten years' time. Time, time, time," Anyanka said crazily. "Fourteen years worth of time. That's a long time to scream. A long, LONG time."

"Look," Jenny said urgently, trying to suppress fear and panic because one, the female demon knew she had a bun in the oven and two, it was obvious the creature wasn't playing with a full deck here. "I don't know what you want, but someone will see you any moment and raise the alarm-!"

Anyanka abruptly morphed into her human mask. "Right, so call me Anya. I used to be Aud, but that was such a long time ago, and I turned my husband into a troll for cheating on me with that bitch Rannveig. Stupid load-bearing barmaid," Anyanka suddenly hissed like a cat.

Jenny was definitely finding it hard to follow Anyanka's conversation. "Fine, Anya, but, uh, I need to be going-"

"To City Hall, yes. I'd teleport you there, it'd save everyone a lot of time, but unfortunately, I can't. My powers just don't work that way." Pouting, Anyanka vanished and reappeared behind Jenny, knocking her out with an andiron to the head. Catching the unconscious gypsy, Anyanka bundled her into the car and took off for her destination – she had been taught how to drive by Allan personally, just last week.

After they got to City Hall, Jenny remained unconscious for a long time. When she finally woke up, she saw Mayor Finch with his psychotic assistant staring at her. "What..."

"Rise and shine," the vengeance demon said in a perky tone, mixed with a healthy dose of madness. "Deputy Mayor Anya Christina Emanuella Jenkins, at your service."

"Yes, good evening, Ms. Calendar. I trust you're not too uncomfortable?" Allan asked smoothly.

"Uncomfortable? You've got me tied to a chair," Jenny said with a note of sheer incredulity in her voice. She wiggled around a bit, but there was no chance of getting loose. Then the captive woman looked at the man more carefully. "Wait a minute, aren't you-?"

"I'm Mayor Allan Finch, yes. I'm not surprised you recognized me; my picture was in the papers a lot, both before and after Halloween." Finch exhaled. "Now, let's get down to business. What's a Romany gypsy doing in my town, working as a Computer Science teacher at the high school?"

"I...I'm a spy..." Jenny choked out against her will, wondering what was happening to her.

"I thought as much, as soon as we discovered your real name – Ms. Kalderash." Allan was able to guess the question within her mind, so he squatted down in front of Jenny and held up a small vial. "Do you know what this is?"

"A demon stool sample?" Jenny asked, trying to delay the inevitable.

"No," said Allan patiently. "This is an extract of Veritas root. According to my dear Anyanka-"

"Call me ANYA!" the demoness interrupted petulantly.

"Yes, Anya, I apologize – please, forgive me my minor lapse. Anyway, Ms. Kalderash, what I'm holding in my hand happens to be the most potent magical truth serum that's ever existed. I had it administered to you while you were unconscious, and now I'm going to ask you a lot of questions. You'll answer them truthfully; you won't be able to help it. So, let's begin."

Jenny tried to resist, but she was just plain unable to do so. Whatever Allan asked, she had to answer honestly and to the best of her ability. She talked, feeling like a traitor the whole time, but the trapped and pregnant gypsy woman nonetheless sang like a little birdie.

Hours later, Jenny had no more secrets left within her; the new Mayor and his unbalanced demonic minion knew everything she did.

Including the fact that Darla could lose her soul upon experiencing a moment of pure, true happiness.

* * *

**Outside the Bronze, Sunnydale**

**January 17th, 1998**

Xander had a bad feeling about this, as he waited for someone from within the Bronze to come join him.

"You wanted to talk to me?" Xander said somewhat suspiciously, eyeing the other teen as Jesse came out of the club.

"Yeah, I guess so." Jesse had an unfriendly look on his face.

"You don't like me, I can tell. Question is, why? What have I ever done to you?" Harris asked challengingly.

"Me? Nothing. You make my girls miserable, though," Jesse glared at Xander.

"How do you figure that?" Xander asked.

"You make Buffy miserable, because you just being here reminds her of stuff she'd much rather forget. You make Willow miserable, because she's hurting for Buffy. You make Cordelia miserable 'cause you rejected her – she hides it pretty well, sure, but I've known her all my life and I can tell when she's unhappy," McNally snapped. "Personally, I think we'd all be a lot better off if you left town and took your damned vampire stalker with you!"

Xander shrugged. "You could be right."

"And another thing, I...what did you say?" Jesse suddenly stared at his companion in surprise.

"I said, you could be right. What, you think I WANTED to come here to Vampire Central? Newsflash, man, but I had a life in Los Angeles. Sure, it was kind of on the suck-y side, but it was still MY life. But then I get kidnapped by a balance demon, I get told by the ghost of my mother that I've been under a demonic curse all my life, and let's not forget the fact that my father's a demon that might still be killing people a hundred years from now," Xander said viciously.

He went on, "Plus, after Halloween – I got stuck with the memories of a man who could kill you six different ways before you could even blink, pal. Hell, maybe I should convince Rory for us to leave, but I was told I need to be here – and fact is, Ford might not follow me if I do go. He's one vampire that I've got to take care of myself-"

"What makes you think Buffy can't take him? She's the Slayer, not you!" Jesse interrupted belligerently.

"Because I know Ford a lot better than you do," Xander replied way too calmly. "They throw down, Ford's gonna hit Summers where it'll cause the most damage – emotionally. He'll say stuff like he never should have bothered dating her, 'cause she's gonna die young thanks to the whole Vampire Slayer thing. That she'll never find love and happiness even if that wasn't an issue, 'cause no guy could ever settle for a girl like her. That she'll never get absolution from me, 'cause deep down, she's still that self-centered airhead who humiliated my ass in front of the entire school-"

"Buffy's not like that anymore!" Jesse shouted, his blood almost starting to boil as he glared hatefully at Xander.

"Sure. You know that, and I know that, and hell, even Ford knows that. But ya think Summers will know that, in a fight to the death with that guy?" Xander asked pointedly. "My point is, Ford can push her buttons like no one else can. But then, I can push his the same way – and there's nothing Ford can say that'll prevent ME from dusting him the first chance I get."

Calming down, Jesse said, "Are you sure? I mean despite everything, he was your best friend..."

"Key word being 'was'. No matter how Ford tries to paint it, he was willing for me to die in order to save himself. There are no mind games he can play which'll change that, despite everything he did for me when he was alive." Harris paused. "You do know the odds are that Ford's the one responsible for Ms. Calendar disappearing, don't you?"

"Yeah," Jesse grimaced, as he recalled his last conversation with the sexy computer teacher. It had hurt hearing that she'd been flattered by his attentions, but that he should try to find someone else his own age as she already had a boyfriend. "Giles is being all British about it, but everyone can tell he's preparing himself for the worst. So's Buffy – it's put a big downer on her surprise birthday party, I can tell you that."

"Surprise birthday party?" Xander inquired.

"Yeah, it's gonna be held right here at the Bronze in two nights' time – everyone's coming, even Cordelia. I, uh, I don't suppose you'd care to attend? Despite personal feelings I know it'd mean a lot to the Buff, you two burying the hatchet for one night," Jesse said reluctantly.

Xander was about to say thanks, but no thanks – when he saw it. The words 'BIRTHDAY PARTY' appearing on the glass window of the rear exit to the nightclub, being drawn in the dust and grime by the same invisible hand that had manifested itself the morning after Halloween.

( _Mom, I sure do hope you know what you're doing here!_ ) "All right, fine. Tell Summers I'll be there. Birthday present and everything," Xander promised, much to Jesse's surprise.

* * *

**Sunnydale Docks, Sunnydale**

**January 19th, 1998**

Things had certainly been busy in Sunnydale for the past two nights, no doubt about that. Buffy had had a Slayer dream about Anyanka killing Darla at the Bronze, as well as Willow talking to one of their classmates named Amy Madison in French.

Then after Giles had escorted her to the Bronze for her surprise birthday party, Buffy had encountered Dalton outside the club, while he was apparently stealing something. The Slayer had fought an undead colleague of his, and crashed through a window into the Bronze before finally staking the vampire muscle.

Giles had subsequently arrived inside the nightclub with the box the vamps had been trying to bring to Collin. The arm of the Judge within it had quickly tried to choke the Chosen One, after the box had been opened.

After that, a rushed conversation and a history lesson had taken place, as everyone had learned who the Judge was and, if assembled, what he could do. Darla had been chosen to take the artifact far away to Asia, to prevent the apocalypse demon from being put back together – and so, here she was, all alone and about to hop on a ship to Nepal with the Judge's arm.

"Sorry, but I'm afraid your ticket's been canceled."

Darla never even managed to turn around before something heavy and metallic crashed into the back of her skull, knocking her down and out.

When Darla finally struggled her way back to consciousness, she found herself in an office within City Hall. "What the hell is going on here?" Darla demanded, instinctively looking for the box containing the Judge's arm.

"Don't worry; the box you're looking for has already been Fed-Ex'ed out of town. It's headed for Alaska and then the North Pole, and at this time of year, the constant sunlight factor? Oooh, I'm burning! I'm burning!" Anyanka did her best impression of a vampire igniting from the lethal solar radiation.

Darla studied the human-looking demoness in the room carefully. She could sense by smell what Anyanka really was, and decades of exposure to Drusilla's lunacy had made the ensouled vampiress well aware of when someone was completely crazy. "Who are you?"

"Like I keep telling everybody, the name's Anya!" the female demon said crossly. "Now, I want you to swallow this pill."

"Why should I?" Darla asked, taking the proffered medication. "And what is it?"

"It's a powerful tranquilizer, more or less. And if you don't take it willingly, I'll FORCE you to swallow it! Please, don't be difficult about this," Anyanka then said politely, blowing hot and cold like the mad woman she was.

Darla hesitated, and Anyanka raised her andiron warningly. Instantly, a fight broke out, but Darla never stood a chance – her attacker could teleport in and out, and the undead Champion couldn't. Soon enough, the pill was being shoved down her throat – and it worked fast, sending a feeling of euphoria throughout Darla's body.

It wasn't a moment of true happiness, which would have made Darla into the soulless creature she'd once been. But it was, nonetheless, bliss of an artificial kind – which meant the soul was suppressed and the demon was back in charge, for the first time since 1898.

"Wow," the now-evil Darla said, straightening up and ready to raise a little hell. "I feel good!"

"How good?" Anyanka asked curiously.

"Good enough to drown you in a pool of your own blood," Darla suddenly snarled, the giddy feelings of freedom and bloodlust quickly intensifying.

"Blah, blah, blah – empty threat, empty threat, empty threat," Anyanka replied, looking thoroughly bored. "Someone's got a present," she then sing-songed airily.

"What are you talking about?" Darla demanded, once again reminded of Drusilla during the good old days.

"What, don't you get it? That drug to suppress your soul, it'll last about a day or so. So you have to be a good girl and play nice, or else no more presents for you." Anyanka laughed, a sound that immediately got on Darla's nerves.

"What's to stop me from torturing you into giving me the name of your supplier?" the evil Darla snarled.

"Oh please, are we back to that again? How are you gonna torture someone you can't even catch?" Anyanka asked, teleporting here and there in the room to demonstrate her point. "'Cause I could arrange for all the nasties out there to come and amputate your head, if you like. Non-empty threat, non-empty threat, non-empty threat."

Darla's demonic alter ego felt something twist inside her at hearing the lunatic woman's words. "Why have you done this? And talk sense, damn you!"

"To spy on the Annoying One for me, of course – spy, spy, spy," Anyanka said, repeating her words in a way that truly infuriated Darla. "Oh, you want to snack on a tasty li'l gypsy spy?"

Anyanka left the room, before returning with the bound and gagged Jenny Calendar. The vengeance demon then removed Jenny's gag. "You two girls have fun now!" Anyanka said cheerfully, before teleporting away.

"Darla, please – you have to help me, we have to get out of here!" Jenny said pleadingly, starting to struggle.

"So, you're a gypsy spy. Ah, let me guess – you're a Kalderash, right? I THOUGHT there was something familiar about you, right from the start. You're a descendant of that BITCH who sentenced me to a hundred years of complete boredom," Darla rasped, going into her demon face.

Jenny's eyes went wide. "You, you've lost your soul-!"

"No, no, Soul Girl is still in here, she's just sleeping right now. I'M in charge again – finally," the demon growled ferally. "And just so you know, vampires don't like competition of any sort – so I'm REALLY going to enjoy this!"

"Darla, no, please – don't do it!" Jenny could not help begging for mercy as she tried to back away. "For the sake of my unborn child, PLEASE!"

"Oh, yes, the baby; that smell is definitely unmistakable, isn't it? Rupert Giles really does deserve his old reputation as the Ripper, fathering a child at his age," Darla shook her head, making a show of appearing faux impressed. "Ah, well, he'll find someone else to replace you eventually – that is, if I don't kill him first."

"NO!"

Jenny died screaming, as the centuries-old vampire sank its fangs into her neck and slowly drained the poor woman dry. And horrible as it was to contemplate, Darla enjoyed every single moment of the sadistic murder – something she was very, very good at doing.

* * *

**The Master's cave, somewhere underneath Sunnydale**

**January 20th, 1998**

Collin was just barely preventing himself from exploding with anger and frustration, at around two o'clock in the morning.

Over the past two months, he had spent a lot of time and money bringing the pieces of the Judge back together. Fortunately, the Master had amassed quite a lot of loot over the centuries; money, jewelry, ancient junk that was now worth a fortune – all of which the Anointed One had inherited, and some of which had been put to good use.

And yet, all of that hadn't prevented Dalton from losing the last piece of the Judge!

Collin had been greatly tempted to yank out Dalton's eyeballs and force-feed them to the incompetent moron. But since the minion had begged for the opportunity to redeem himself, the Anointed One had let him try to retrieve the Judge's arm – which, as said, was already on its way to the North Pole.

"What is this?" the child vampire demanded, as he saw the human arm in a matching box to the rest of the pieces of the Judge.

"Well, sir, I, I couldn't find the original missing arm..." Dalton said hesitantly.

"So he came up with something else," Ford added, as he joined Dalton and his sire carrying a bottle of silver liquid.

"Explain. While you still have a tongue to do it with," Collin growled.

"All we really need is an arm, sir. Uh, as long as we demonize it enough, it-it should work to completely reassemble the Judge," Dalton said hastily, almost tripping over his own tongue. "That's why Ford, he-he ripped this arm off of his evening meal, and now..."

"These scabby-looking, telepathic, mouth-less demons – they can infect humans with an aspect of their being. I read about it in Los Angeles," Ford said excitedly. "So one human arm demonization, coming right up!"

He opened the vial and poured the demon blood onto the human arm, making sure to avoid getting splashed by any of it. The arm then briefly glowed silver, before the glow subsided.

Dalton and Ford quickly took the box over to where the other boxes had been assembled, into the shape of a body. They raised the box and set the arm in place. Then another vamp brought the box containing the head, and put that into position as well.

The next moment, a bright light emanated through the cracks in the boxes. The front of the now-unified boxes opened up like a pair of twin gates, to allow the Judge to step out. The tall, blue-skinned demon with horns opened his eyes, as he stepped fully into the Master's underground cave.

"Who brings me forth once again?" the Judge demanded, trying not to wobble on his feet.

"I did," Collin said in deep satisfaction. "The Earth is overrun with the plague of humanity. Your services are needed to wipe the pestilence away, once and for all."

"For now, I am weak," the Judge intoned, he had no allies but he was able to sense how there was utterly no humanity in Collin, which made him a suitable vassal. "My full strength will return in time. Perhaps more quickly if you had supplied my true arm. To that end, I need to feed on one amongst you who stinks of humanity."

"Take your pick," the Anointed One said calmly, staring at Ford. By this time, he had learned of his minion's obsession with his former human friend.

The Judge's gaze rested on Dalton, though. "That one is full of feeling. He reads. Bring him to me."

Three minions grabbed Dalton and yanked him forward at Collin's gesture. "Do it."

"No. No! NO!" Dalton screamed in fear as the Judge put his right hand on the vampire's chest, and the undead guy with glasses began to go up in smoke.

The Judge's hand quickly began to burn into Dalton – who then combusted, disappearing in a flash of flame and smoke. Final death being the only reward for months of faithful service to the Anointed One, as Ford nervously noted.

The Judge smiled, feeling his power finally beginning to return.

TBC...


	11. Judgment Day

See Part One for Disclaimer and details. Hi, and welcome to the latest chapter! As always, a big thanks must go to everyone who's reviewed this story so far. Now, I must admit, I received some negative feedback on the previous chapter of the fic, which definitely made me wonder if I'd alienated some of the readers. But even though this is sort of a dark fanfic in places, where people have died and will die in the future, I'd just like to point out that I'm not killing the characters off merely for the hell of it – there is a _reason_ for everything that happens in this story, as I slowly build towards the conclusion. Oh, and I should also mention that there is a bit of sexual content in this chapter; not much, but if that's not your cup of tea, it'd be best to just skip that bit. Okay! Enough from me, it's time to get on with what you all came here for...

* * *

**Part Eleven: Judgment Day**

**City Hall, Sunnydale**

**January 20th, 1998**

A council of war was being held within Allan Finch's office, not long before dawn. There were three people present; Allan himself, naturally, and the two members of his inner circle. Namely, Anyanka and Sunnydale's chief of police, Bob.

"Jesus Christ, we've got an unkillable homicidal demon in this town? What do we do?" Bob asked fearfully.

"Well, in your case, suffer horribly and die," Anyanka said optimistically, before cocking her head slightly. "If you want, cheat on your wife – and I'll put you out of your misery before the Judge will, by granting her a Wish."

Allan did not appear to notice Sunnydale's top cop cringe away from the insane demoness. "Anya, I don't suppose you could grant me a wish to send that demon somewhere far away? Like, say, the surface of the moon?"

"No, certainly not! You're not a scorned woman!" Anyanka replied indignantly. Even though that wasn't actually true; 'justice' demons could grant Wishes to anyone they pleased, male or female. It was just too bad how Allan didn't know that, and he didn't want to alienate his loony pet demon, either.

"I see. So, if we were to find a scorned woman to do it..."

"It still wouldn't work. The Lower Beings wouldn't approve of it," Anya said stiffly, referring to those upper-level demons who had granted D'Hoffryn and his minions their powers. "Have you no sense of propriety?"

"What if the Judge attacks me personally – the Orbs won't protect me, I take it?" Allan asked mildly, not letting his annoyance show.

"The Orbs of Nezzla'khan...superior strength and physical invulnerability. But they won't stop the Judge burning the humanity out of you. Old Mother Hubbard, nothing left in the cupboard...farmer in the dell, nothing there but a shell..." Anyanka abruptly shivered at the thought. "I wouldn't like that."

"Well, thank you for the thought, Anya, it's most kind of you," Mayor Finch said with a reassuring smile. "Now then, what's the situation with Darla?"

"Who?" Anyanka asked in confusion, her insanity playing havoc with her memory.

"The female vampire you fed that drug to, earlier on," Bob said rather nervously.

"OH, her! She left," the mad woman gestured carelessly. "She said she had things to do, after confirming that the Judge was active in that underground cave. Probably decided to snack on some idiot or other. I remember the first time I ever laid eyes on her, back in 1880-"

Anyanka suddenly teleported away in the middle of the conversation, leaving the two men alone in the office. No warning; she just disappeared, and the other two had no idea when or even if she'd be back.

Bob looked at where the female demon had been standing and shook his head. "Sir, with all due respect-"

"Not one word," Allan cut him off. "Or I'll save Anya the trouble, and kill you myself. She's part of the team – deal with it!"

"Yes, Mayor Finch," the chief of police said stiffly. "What are your orders, sir?"

Allan steepled his hands in an effort to look the part of the evil genius fully in his element, only to completely ruin the effect by fidgeting slightly. "According to what Anya said Darla saw, the Judge isn't fully capable yet – he was stumbling around, mostly likely due to that fake arm the vampires substituted for the one we got rid of. I'd say we have a small window of opportunity for a surgical strike against that thing."

"With what sort of weapon, sir? What can kill something that's unkillable?" the policeman asked.

"I don't know," Finch frowned. "But if anyone can figure it out, it's the Watcher for the Slayer. So contact Snyder at the high school – tell him he's to keep his distance from Mr. Giles and his associates, until I say otherwise. Have our people keep an eye on Miss Summers and her friends as well – and if it looks as if they've come up with something, help them as discreetly as possible.

"I hate to admit it, but those people may very well be the only thing standing between us and Doomsday..."

* * *

**Sunnydale High Library, Sunnydale**

**Many hours later**

Buffy was tired, hungry and apprehensive. She was also still a virgin and yet to meet the Judge, as the tangled threads of fate had prevented that particular destiny from coming to pass.

After the disrupted surprise party at the Bronze, everyone had gone back to the library once Darla had headed off for the docks. Giles had done a bit of reading on the Judge, and was very glad that Buffy wouldn't have to fight him – until Willow had come up with the scary notion that just because demons were incomplete, that didn't mean they couldn't still cause havoc.

The redhead's memories of Moloch the robot demon had come in rather useful, preventing everyone from lapsing into a false sense of security.

Later, the evil version of Darla had shown up – after she'd scouted the Master's cave for her new drug-dealing demon acquaintance. Upon arriving at the library, the vampiress had just barely managed to hide her furious loathing for the Slayer who had killed her sire, and told Giles how she had been attacked at the docks and the Judge's arm had been stolen. Darla had also mentioned how a brief reconnaissance of Collin's old home had subsequently yielded the fact that the big blue apocalypse demon had been fully reassembled; but she had said nothing about her waking up at City Hall, or killing Jenny Calendar.

Darla's demon wanted to save that news for a more – special occasion.

"Giles? Have you found anything new yet?" Buffy asked her Watcher, just as Jesse and Willow came into Slayer Central.

"No, Buffy," Rupert replied as he turned to face the Slayerettes. "Jesse, Willow, I'm glad you're here – I-I'm afraid there's bad news. Darla showed up after you left last night-"

"No need to be looking around for boxes, not anymore. Big blue Judge guy is fully active," Buffy interrupted the British man.

"So are, are we talking the end of the world? As in, Judgment Day?" Willow asked, her sea-green eyes wide with terror and apprehension.

"Most likely he isn't at full strength yet, but he will be soon. The Judge, he'll, he'll be able to reduce anything with even a trace of humanity into charcoal, with just a look," Giles tried not to stammer. "I, I need to continue researching, try to find a weak spot..."

Xander chose that moment to come into the library, having spent the night at the bus depot – just as Cordelia had spent the night at the airport – on the lookout for boxes that might contain pieces of the Judge. After a short conversation, Giles left for his private office and Jesse dragged Willow to their next class, giving Xander a pointed look along the way.

Ever since the night Xander and Jesse had talked outside the Bronze, the former Halloween soldier had started seeing things a lot more clearly – for example, Xander had realized that Cordelia often felt completely alone, even when she was surrounded by all her popular friends.

He had also become conscious of the fact that Willow now preferred the company of girls, from the way her eyes checked out the female form both at the school and within the Bronze.

He'd furthermore figured out that Buffy had serious hang-ups where it came to men; even her own father, who had been unable to make it to town yesterday for his only daughter's birthday.

"Summers, can we talk?" Xander asked the Slayer once they were alone, putting away such thoughts.

"About what?" Buffy replied. "The Judge? From what Darla said, he's like eight miles of bad road coming-"

"Actually, it's about something else. It's, uh, been brought to my attention recently that my presence makes you, um, miserable. That I remind ya of things you'd rather forget. So, I figured we should try to clear up what happened between us in the past; it might help you get your head in the game a bit more," Xander shrugged slightly.

"Could we NOT do this right now? Impending apocalypse brewing, remember?" Buffy instinctively went into avoidance mode.

"If not now, then when?" Xander pointed out reasonably. "Seriously, Summers. I mean, it's not like I hate you anymore or anything – you know that, right?"

"You don't?" Buffy exclaimed in disbelief.

"What happened at Hemery was over two years ago, and we're both different people now," Xander told her. "Besides, I've heard how you died to save the world last year, before McNally brought you back – and that qualifies as seriously heroic in my book."

"It does?" Buffy asked, her eyes almost bulging.

"Heck, yeah. Knowing you were gonna die, and still trying to take out the bad guy before it happened – that's something I consider, like, worthy of a Congressional Medal of Honor," Harris said, looking Buffy in the eye. "Plus, let's not forget how you've saved my life twice since I showed up in this town. You know what, Summers? If it wasn't for our past history – I betcha by now, I would have fallen desperately in love with the person you've become since ninth grade," he said with a small smile, unaware of the cosmic truth of his assertion.

Something in Buffy's heart went 'pop', and without thinking she rushed forward to grab Xander into a huge hug. It felt very therapeutic to finally resolve matters with her childhood friend, after the past two months. "I'm sorry, Xander, I'm so sorry for every mean thing I ever did to you! Especially that thing with your underwear flapping away at the top of the school flagpole!"

"Yeah, OW! Summers, needing my ribs not to get broken here!" Xander yelped as Buffy squeezed him too tightly with her super-strength.

At the worst possible moment, Cordelia came into the library and saw her social enemy and the object of her unrequited affections engaged in an embrace. Jumping to conclusions, the Chase girl glowered before turning around and barging out again.

"Cordelia! Wait up!" Xander called out as Buffy let him go, and he quickly followed the cheerleader. "I need to talk to you," he said to the brunette, as soon as he caught up with her.

"Well, I don't need to talk to you. Let go of my arm!" Cordy hissed at him, drawing the attention of some passing students.

Xander noticed it and quickly yanked Cordelia into an empty classroom, before shutting the door. "Look, in case you jumped to conclusions just now-"

"What, that you'd rather be with a girl you hate than be with me?" Cordelia said bitterly. "Thanks, I already got that message!"

"Yeah, those conclusions exactly. I want you to know, what you saw just now was only Summers and me finally resolving some issues – and I'm hoping we can do the same," Xander said seriously.

"What?" Cordy demanded in astonishment.

"Yeah, see, a mutual acquaintance told me lately that I make you miserable, so I figure I should try to change that. As I recall, about two months ago you said I owed you a date to make up for – something, I can't remember what anymore. So, assuming we survive this thing with the Judge – will you do me the honor of going out to dinner with me on Friday night?"

Cordelia just stared at him in shock – then the words came out of her mouth of their own volition. "Just as long as it isn't somewhere incredibly tacky, like Bucky's Fondue Hut or whatever. I DO have an image to maintain, you know!"

* * *

**Outside Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

**Later that night**

Darla was a vampire with a plan, as she headed for the lair of her human enemies.

She'd spent most of the day thinking. Both about the past, and the future. The issue of the Judge made the future look more than a little dicey – but just like Allan Finch, Darla had faith that Giles would think of something to deal with that demon. There was nothing she could contribute there, anyway; despite being around for four centuries, there was nothing Darla knew about the Judge that Giles didn't.

During her meditations, Darla had asked herself – what did she want? The obvious answer was to be completely rid of the soul, of course. The undead woman despised being dependant on Anyanka and her drugs for her current state, and knew that continuing to do so would be the height of foolishness – the insane demoness or the mysterious employer she'd mentioned might decide to cut her off, when she was of no further use to them.

To that end, Darla had asked herself – how did the drug work? Again, the obvious answer was by making her feel blissfully happy. A happiness clause in the curse? She had confirmed it by tracking down Jenny's uncle Enyos, and torturing him in the dead woman's apartment until he'd talked – and then died.

( _A moment of perfect happiness,_ ) Darla thought to herself, as she entered the library. ( _Well, I'll just have to experiment a little, see what works. And of course, that means..._ )

"Hey, Darla," Jesse said, his hormones surging at the sight of her the way they always did.

"Hi," Willow said absently, causing Buffy to glance up and mumble a quick, "Hey." Cordelia and Xander weren't there; right now they were talking in the stacks as Harris shelved a book that mentioned how no weapon forged by man could kill the Judge.

Giles looked up and stared at the vampiress. "Darla? Any news?"

"Nothing," the demon shook her head; Darla's acting was definitely good enough to win her an Academy Award. "The Judge must have been weaker than we thought, but that surely can't last much longer. Giles, please tell me you've found something?"

"Err, I'm afraid all the books say the exact same thing. The Judge cannot be killed by any weapon forged by man, and short of assembling another army in order to dismember him again, I-I-I can't think of anything," Giles confessed, feeling more than a little stressed out.

"What are we gonna do?" Willow asked, trying not to panic.

"There's nothing else for it. I've got to go face this thing, try to fight it myself," Buffy suddenly decided, jumping up.

"You're a fool. The Judge would kill you in an instant," Darla said roughly, which caused both girls to look at her strangely for the unexpected hostility.

"Uh, Buffy? I think Darla's kinda got a point. Usually I'm all 'yay' with you going out to slay, and afterwards we party at the Bronze, y'know – but, but that plan is sorta verging on that whole 'unavoidable lethal prophecy' thing from last year," Jesse said hesitantly.

After Giles agreed with Jesse, Darla said, "I'm heading out to see if I can learn anything new." Before she left the inner sanctum, though, she gestured with her head for McNally to join her.

"You wanted to talk to me?" Jesse asked as he followed the object of his carnal desires.

"Yes. In there," Darla said, indicating the same classroom that Xander and Cordelia had talked in earlier that day. She shut the door and said, "Jesse, this is serious. More serious than that time you asked me to help you take care of Spike, or when you begged me to help you save the Slayer from the Master and prevent the end of the world. You know that, right?"

"Uh, yeah?" Jesse didn't get where Darla was going with this.

"Giles won't admit it, but the odds are the Judge will soon go on a rampage and slaughter everything in this world that has any trace of humanity in it. Which definitely includes me, due to the presence of my soul," Darla said truthfully, much to her inner disgust. "And if this is the end, you...well, you deserve something for all your efforts, ever since you learned the truth about the real nature of this world."

"I don't get it. Are you talkin' about some kind of, uh, reward?" McNally asked in confusion.

"Yes. I've decided to make a man out of you, before the apocalypse is upon us."

"You wha..." Jesse said stupidly, unable to believe his ears and then his eyes, as his undead crush began removing her top and bra. Just the sight of those incredible, gravity-defying breasts with the nipples jutting out like organ stops was enough to reduce him to a drooling idiot. "Guh..."

Rolling her eyes, Darla nonetheless smiled like a sexual predator and attacked the male teen, her cold lips and tongue quickly bringing Jesse to a state of extreme sexual arousal. She then forced the guy to lie down on the teacher's desk, before pulling down his pants and then Darla straddled Jesse's hips to impale herself on his thick, engorged member.

( _Just pretend it's Angelus you're screwing right now,_ ) Darla thought to herself as she rode Jesse like a wild stallion. ( _Remember the good times – Marseilles, Vienna, even Prague. Oh, that's it – yes, yes, oh dear, sweet boy, well done, I'm almost there, I'm almost – NOOOO!_ ) Darla silently screamed in fury, as the inexperienced Jesse exploded before she could reach orgasm and flooded her inside places with his hot, salty seed.

"Oh God, now I can die happy," Jesse said blissfully at precisely the wrong moment, the former male virgin failing to notice Darla go into her vampire face.

"Close your eyes, dear boy," the naked blonde woman said in a sugary voice, and the exhausted Jesse obliged.

McNally never saw Darla lean down to bite him in the neck, covering his mouth to muffle the screams and draining him of blood incredibly quickly – before she used a claw to open a bloody wound on her bosom, and then Darla brought the dying Jesse's mouth to suckle on her breast like a newborn baby.

/ _**Soon I will welcome you into my world,**_ / Darla said in French, closing her eyes in pleasure as the becoming ritual was completed. / _**And**_ _**you will only be the first of my new children...**_ /

* * *

**Outside the National Guard Base, Sunnydale**

**January 21st, 1998**

It was time for Xander to finally play a significant part in the battle against the forces of darkness and evil, as Cordelia's car came to a stop outside the military base and both he and the cheerleader scrambled towards the chain-link fence, leaving Willow and Buffy behind.

"Where the heck has Jesse disappeared off to?" the very worried Willow asked for possibly the hundredth time. After turning him, Darla had gotten dressed and carried the corpse back to her apartment for McNally to rise somewhere safe.

"I don't know, Will. First it was Ms. Calendar, now it's Jesse," Buffy said semi-despairingly. ( _I don't know, maybe Merrick had a point all along about not getting the civilians involved_... )

Not far away, Cordelia and Xander were following the plan he'd come up with after Willow had asked glumly, where was an army when you needed one. The plan was desperate, and probably foolhardy, but no one had a better idea and even a reckless plan was better than none at this late stage.

Xander murmured to Cordelia, "The security here really is a joke. I should, uh, report it." He looked around for a second before starting to cut through the fence, "On second thought, I should wait until AFTER tonight to do that."

Cordelia stood behind him, keeping watch as Xander finished the job and then they went through onto the base. "Who am I supposed to be again?"

"A streetwalker for hire, who's incredibly impressed with her amazingly macho soldier boy." They snuck along behind the building as he whispered, "Just in case we get caught, of course."

Off Cordelia's annoyed glare, Harris shrugged and looked around the corner of the building. Xander then quickly stepped over to the door of the armory, Cordelia following close behind, and he reached for the doorknob – when a loud voice shouted out, "Halt! Arms where I can see them!"

Xander shot up his arms, and elbowed Cordelia so that she did the same. The guard approached the teenagers and said to Xander, "Okay. Identify yourself right the hell now!"

The young man spoke quickly, "Private Harris with the 33rd."

The soldier shook his head and took aim with his M-16. "The 33rd are on maneuvers. Try again."

Xander replied as if talking to a simpleton, "No shit they're on maneuvers, wise guy. I'm on leave from them, in case it isn't obvious!"

Cordelia almost audibly groaned. ( _Nice going, 'cause it's always way smart to piss off the guy with the gun!_ )

The soldier seemed unfazed by Xander's tone, though. "You always spend your leave snooping around the armory, pal?" He then stared at Cordelia, who was wearing a very trashy outfit. "And who's she?"

Cordelia waved hesitantly. "Hi, I'm not a soldier. I'm, uh, his date for tonight!"

Wincing, Xander approached the guard with his hands still up. "Look, I just want to show her around a little, give her the tour. You know what I mean, right?"

The soldier raised an eyebrow. "The tour?"

Xander lied for all he was worth, relying on his Halloween memories to guide him on what to say. "Well, you know the ladies. They like to see us holding the big guns; it gets them all hot and flustered, ready to put out. So, can you cut me some slack here, gimme a blind eye?"

The soldier eased up, lowering the M-16 but not giving in to Xander's request yet. "Why should I?"

Harris lowered his arms. "Well, if you do, I won't tell anyone that your boots ain't regulation, your post wasn't covered..." Xander quickly grabbed the soldier's M-16 and gave it back to him properly, "...and you were holding your gun like a complete pussy."

The last crack was a bit too much, and so the National Guardsman snarled, "You got five minutes, nimrod!"

Xander smiled. "Thanks. And if you hear any strange noises, well – I'm sure you can guess what all that's gonna be about." He then escorted the somewhat confused Cordelia into the armory, as the guard checked his watch.

"Oh! Now I get it. You still remember everything from Halloween, don't you? That Soldier Guy, or whatever you called him," Cordy quickly realized, as Xander searched the room for the weapon he wanted.

"Yeah. Well, the useful bits, anyway – I've tried my best to forget all the bad stuff," Xander said, distracted and busy.

"Uh-huh. And what you were saying just now, that thing about men holding guns making girls wanna have sex? That's – kinda weird," Cordelia frowned. She was still a virgin like Buffy and Willow, even though Cordy could remember what it was like making love to a man thanks to her Halloween memories. "Is it true?"

"I haven't forgotten how it worked for Soldier Guy, before he got shipped off to 'Nam," Xander said in that annoyingly absent tone of voice.

Miss Chase was about to deliver a scathing reply how something like that wasn't going to work on HER – when a vision of the National Guardsman entering the armory and catching them trying to steal stuff appeared in the seer's mind.

There was no time to explain. Cordelia raced away from the door and plunged her lips onto Xander's, grabbing him in a tight hug just as the soldier poked his head through the door. Miss Chase tried not to lose herself in the kiss for a few moments, fighting to stay focused as she knew they had an audience – but it was no good. The walls she had created around her heart to prevent Xander from breaking it began to crumble away, and moaning slightly, she jumped up and wrapped her legs around the young man's waist.

Xander almost staggered from the extra weight, but managed to keep his balance as Cordelia's tongue forced its way into his mouth. But just as he was letting himself relax and begin to return the kiss, Cordelia let go of his lips and whispered in his ear, "Is he gone?"

"Is who gone?" Xander asked, way too distracted by the way Cordelia was pressing her pelvis against his.

Cordy bit his right ear with her teeth, making Harris yelp. "The guard at the door!"

"Uh, yeah," Xander muttered as Cordelia climbed down off of him. "Wait, he was at the door? How'd you know-?"

"Vision Girl here, remember?" Cordy slapped Harris upside the head, trying not to think about their semi-mating activity just now. "Now let's find that thing, and get out of here!"

Less than two minutes later, they'd opened the window and thrown the crate containing a rocket launcher – also known as an M72 Light Anti-Armor Weapon – outside. Buffy had been waiting, alerted by Xander's signal, and the Slayer had caught the box before it could hit the ground and alert any of the military guards.

Xander and Cordelia had then quickly joined Willow and Buffy, with Miss Chase nastily asking the National Guardsman if he'd enjoyed his little peep show along the way, before the BMW raced off back to the school.

* * *

**Sunnydale Mall, Sunnydale**

**A while later**

By process of elimination, the Scooby Gang had arrived here at the local shopping center after figuring there was no point trying to fight their way down to the Master's cave – and since the Bronze was closed, there was no other place with lots of human bodies gathered together for the Judge to feed upon.

The white hats had set up their ambush, just as the Judge and Collin's forces had arrived. Xander had used the M72 LAW to blow up the unkillable demon into many charred pieces, despite Buffy wanting to do it herself, and now the mall's sprinkler system had activated from all the flames and the smoke arising from the explosion.

Cordelia was getting frantic from all the water ruining her sleeveless top and Calvin Klein pants, as she had gotten rid of the trashy hooker ensemble as soon as possible. "Is somebody gonna do something about the sprinklers? I mean, hello? My clothes are getting ruined here!"

The rest of the gang ignored her, as everyone ran down into the mall's food court. "Do you think he's dead?" Willow gestured at the remains of the Judge.

"It's most unlikely. Now, we have to pick up the pieces, a-and keep them separate," Giles ordered as Buffy saw a pair of undead targets and ran off.

"Uh...arm," Miss Rosenberg then said, pointing. "Mostly human arm?" she asked in confusion.

"Yes – that, too," Giles said, not fully understanding that either, but feeling relieved that the apocalypse demon had somehow been overcome. Later that night whilst writing everything up in his Watcher diary, he would cross-reference events to earlier entries and learn how two of Buffy's Slayer dreams had predicted all the events of this night – even if the part where Xander was burning with green fire was still a mystery.

Not far away, Buffy yelled at a familiar face, "Ford!"

The undead version of Billy Fordham stopped and actually smiled at his ex. "Hey, Summers! Hell of a night, huh? Hey, did you see the way Xan just blew up the Big Bad? My old buddy really came through there!"

( _Damn it, how can he still act like the real Ford so much?_ ) Buffy gritted her teeth and began the fight, even if – just as Xander had prophesized to Jesse a few nights ago – Ford was able to push her buttons way too easily. And speaking of the co-founding member of the Scooby Gang...

"It looks like the guys did it," the undead Jesse said to his sire, who was standing alongside him on the upper level of the mall. McNally had risen as a creature of the night remarkably quickly, thanks to all the blood Darla had fed him. "The world's been saved!"

"Yes," Darla said distractedly, seeing Anyanka not far away – the vengeance demon had witnessed the recent battle, since the Deputy Mayor had been following Willow, Buffy, Xander and Cordelia all night on Allan Finch's orders. Darla then said to her newest childe, "Stay here, I'll be back soon."

Unfortunately, the fledgling vampire saw Xander on clean-up duty downstairs and unconstrained by any form of morality, Jesse raced downstairs to deal with Harris almost as soon as Darla started conversing with Anyanka.

( _That bastard_ _is finally gonna pay for everything he's done, oh yes he is! Coming to MY town, and making MY girls miserable? Forget drinking him dry, I'm gonna rip off his head and piss down his neck!_ ) Jesse thought with brutal ferocity. ( _I'm gonna..._ )

"NOOO!" Cordelia suddenly interposed herself in his path with a cross and stake, after receiving her second vision for the night – one where Jesse had broken Xander's neck, after taking the victim by surprise.

"Oh, baby, aren't you a sight for sore eyes! Y'know what, Cordelia, screw that prick Harris – right now, I wanna pick up where we left off in that classroom last year, and screw you instead!" Jesse smiled with lustful and sadistic glee, the old desire for the busty brunette quickly surfacing in his undead psyche.

"What? Oh, please! Dead or alive, you never once had a chance with me, you-" Cordelia started to say angrily, before the Jesse vampire slapped her weapons aside and wrestled her down to the floor.

Just as all seemed lost and the fangs were at Cordelia's neck, Xander jumped onto Jesse's back, plunging his stake home. The undead guy exploded into ashes between them, and Harris fell down on top of the Chase girl. The two of them were in a very compromising position for a moment, limbs all tangled together, and had he been there – Cordelia's father would doubtless have wanted to hang Xander from the highest yardarm, after jumping to conclusions about what the male teenager was doing with his daughter.

Luckily, though, Mr. Chase wasn't there and nobody noticed those two crazy kids in the current mall madness, what with all the screaming patrons running around and the security people trying in vain to restore some semblance of order.

Nobody except Whistler, that is, who then turned his attention to Buffy – whose fight with Ford ended in a draw, after Collin's minion had decided to run for it – and then the balance demon focused his gaze upon Darla.

( _Well, crap,_ ) Whistler thought despondently about the drugged vampiress, even as all the screaming got louder and the Sunnydale P.D. finally showed up. ( _Crazy Girl recruiting you into the ranks of Team Evil – I betcha that's gonna put a crimp in the Powers' plans. 'Cause I never saw THIS coming! _)

Whistler turned his attention back to Xander, who was just getting up off the floor with Cordelia. ( _I'm sorry, kid; it wasn't supposed to be like this. Damn, looks as if the game plan is gonna have to be changed AGAIN. So I figure, the worst is still yet to come for you..._ )

TBC...


	12. Aftermath, Revisited

See Part One for Disclaimer and details. Hi, and welcome to the latest chapter of the story! Now, the reviews keep coming, for which I am very grateful – thank you, all – but like a crack addict who always wants more, I can't get enough of the feedback. Good, bad, or anything in between; please tell me what you think of the fic so far! I'm hoping to hear from as many as people as possible, on how they'd like this story to end. But enough of that, let's get on with the fanfic...

* * *

**Part Twelve: Aftermath, Revisited**

**City Hall, Sunnydale**

**January 22nd, 1998**

Mayor Allan Finch was going over the report of how a lot of helicopter activity had taken place in Sunnydale earlier this morning.

( _Most likely, Mr. Giles summoned help from his organization in England and the support troops came to get rid of the Judge's body parts,_ ) the newly-installed Mayor reflected as he considered the information provided him. ( _Well, good – it saves me the trouble of doing it myself._ )

Allan was still feeling annoyed with himself, though, for ever letting matters get this far. He knew it was impossible to get rid of every single vampire in Sunnydale – like Giles had said about the Gorch brothers, the malignant supernatural energy emitted by the Hellmouth attracted vampires and demons to it like moths to a flame. ( _Still, I shouldn't have left the job from two months ago half-done like that. That Anointed One, he's really got to go! Maybe Anya can help me think of something? I wonder where she's gotten off to..._ )

Right on cue, the vengeance demon appeared in front of him out of nowhere. Anyanka looked distressed as she babbled, "Allan, I've got to leave! Right now. There are countless women out there in the world, crying out for vengeance, screaming in pain for my help!"

"I see," Allan nodded reasonably; luckily, he knew how to handle Anyanka's whims by now. "May I ask when you'll be back?"

"I don't know. Days. Weeks. Anyone suggesting months would not be accused of crazy talk!" Anyanka said urgently, totally missing out on the irony of her words.

"Well, that's a pity. Because you were scheduled to make a speech tomorrow at one of the ladies auxiliaries meetings, as I recall," Allan idly scratched the back of his neck.

"Well, yes, I mean women's rights ARE definitely important, and I had quite the target audience seminar prepared. Oh, maybe I should delay my travel plans – no, no, I mustn't! Vengeance is what I do. It's what I am!" Anyanka said crazily, repeating the words she'd uttered to Halfrek back in 1983.

"Well, personally, Anya, I like to think that there's a lot more to you than just vengeance. I mean, you've been an excellent official in my administration," Allan said smoothly. He held up some papers and said, "Your submission for a ten-year plan concerning the airport, the shipping port, and all the local businesses was very interesting, despite what the town select committee had to say."

"Well, of course it was – wait, what did the committee have to say?" Anyanka demanded, as she grabbed the papers from Allan and read them. Her eyes went wide with an unexpected burst of lucidity as she muttered, "Overly capitalistic assumptions...insufficient understanding of the local economy...not in line with City Hall objectives...OH!" the demoness seethed in rage. "This was written by a bunch of stupid MEN, wasn't it? I'm gonna liquefy their entrails for this, not to mention torture them for ages!"

"But I thought you were going to be too busy with the vengeance thing, answering the call of wronged women all over the world for the next few months?" Allan asked with a frown.

"Oh, vengeance-shmengeance, this is PERSONAL!" the demoness said furiously, somehow maintaining her coherent façade. "How dare those feeble males question MY conclusions for where this city needs to go, in order to survive the next ten years! I've been around for nearly twelve centuries! What – do they think I can't tell how this country is headed for a financial meltdown, within the next decade or so? Of all the..." Anyanka fumed angrily.

"Well, you could always try to persuade the committee to see things from your point of view. And instead of simply killing them, maybe you could get all those men to willingly support you and your plan? That would be quite the moral victory for women everywhere if you could pull it off, I'd say – an acknowledgment of female superiority, not to mention being able to think beyond the next election for the good of the community. Just my opinion, anyway," Finch said blandly.

"Pop goes the weasel, you're absolutely right!" Anyanka nodded eagerly, lapsing back into the depths of insanity. "After all, Mary-Mary quite contrary – you can kill as many men as you like, but their libidinous treachery and oppression of women will never change. I'll try Thompson in the Chamber of Commerce first, and if he doesn't listen, I'll threaten to make someone wish for him to be replaced..."

Allan Finch smiled as Anyanka disappeared out of his office. ( _To think I'm actually starting to get used to that sort of thing, and that I'm beginning to get rather fond of her,_ ) the new Mayor thought to himself with pleasure as he got back to work. ( _Well, if nothing else, Anya certainly keeps things from getting boring around here..._ )

The next moment, Allan put down his pen and gazed thoughtfully off into the distance. Anyanka's words had just given him an idea on how to handle Collin.

* * *

**Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

**Later that night**

Willow Rosenberg was seriously grieving as she left the girls' bathroom to go back to the library, not long after sunset.

( _Jesse got turned into a vampire,_ ) the redhead thought to herself, trying not to start crying again. ( _Oh, God, but I still can't bring myself to really believe it. How can he be dead? How can he be DUST? Who, who did that to him? Probably that Ford guy... _)

It was just too much to deal with – especially after what had happened with Ms. Calendar, and how the Computer Science teacher had explained she didn't swing that way to her favorite student. Right now, Willow's mind was full of memories of the boy who had been her best male friend, and her first ever friend. From the first day of kindergarten with the yellow crayon, to the last time she had seen him alive – walking out of the library, and chasing after Darla as usual.

Willow could remember Cordelia saying at the mall what had happened, how Xander had saved her from an undead monster that had tried to kill her in public. Harris himself had looked stunned when Queen C had mentioned just who her attacker had been – apparently he hadn't seen Jesse's face, before he'd stabbed him in the back.

In Willow's mind, that made it a little easier not to hate Xander for what he'd done.

( _I'm just glad I didn't see Jesse as one of the walking dead, and that I can remember him the way he was instead of one of those – things,_ ) Willow thought numbly as she walked slowly down the corridor. She suspected Buffy and Giles felt the same way, even though neither of them had admitted it to her yet.

"Willow," Xander came out of the library and walked over to her in the school corridor.

"What is it?" Willow sniffled, as they both came to a stop.

"Uh, I was wondering if it'd make it any easier if I, um, kinda stayed out of your way from now on. 'Cause I know you and McNally were really tight, like almost right from the cradle," Xander looked down for a moment.

"No, I don't think that'd change anything," Willow said lifelessly. "Jesse's dead-"

"And I killed him," Xander interrupted.

"No. Giles explained it to me last year. He told us that first day Jesse and I found out about the Hellmouth, how when you see a vampire you're not looking at a person anymore – you're looking at the, the thing which killed him," Willow replied in that same dead tone of voice. She then looked up at Xander and said, "I, I should thank you for staking the evil demon wearing Jesse's face before it could kill Cordelia or anybody else, but I can't. At least, not yet – it's, it's just too soon."

"I understand," Xander nodded compassionately. "And for whatever it's worth, I'm sorry for your loss. McNally never liked me much, and the feeling was fairly mutual – but the guy sure as hell didn't deserve what happened to him."

"Thanks," Willow said mournfully, hugging her arms around herself.

At that moment, the lights went out. "What the hell's going on?" Xander said in confusion, looking up and around.

"Willow. Xander," a female voice from the other end of the corridor said, the owner's face was shrouded in shadows but both teens recognized it as belonging to their vampire acquaintance.

"Darla?" the red-haired girl said in confusion.

"Yes. Do either of you know what's up with the lights?" the evil vampiress asked, even though she had been the one responsible for cutting the power – taking a leaf out of Spike's book from Parent-Teacher Night, ironically enough.

"Never mind that – where, where have you been ever since last night? Oh, wait, did you see where Jesse went after he left the library? Who might have turned him?" Willow demanded.

"Someone turned Jesse?" Darla's voice was free of all traces of amusement, her acting as impeccable as ever.

"Yeah, I staked him at the mall last night while he was trying to bite Cordelia," Xander replied, frowning as he saw Darla stiffen in the distance. He suddenly remembered how the Judge had had a demonized human arm at the mall, he had seen it with his own two eyes – and yet Darla had reported how the Judge's real arm had been stolen from her at the docks, by persons unknown. ( _Wait a sec – if it wasn't the vamps who grabbed it like we all assumed it was, then who was it? There's another player here in town? Or maybe..._ )

Xander's instincts suddenly started screaming warnings at him, as Willow began walking towards the undead woman. Xander asked Darla suspiciously, "So where were you while we were taking care of the Judge?"

Rather than answer, Darla moved with vampire super-speed. She had an arm around Willow's throat and her game face was finally visible in the dim emergency lighting as – dropping the act once and for all – the demon snarled, "Where was I? I was at the mall too. Less than thirty feet away from where you killed my childe!"

Willow couldn't believe the words that were coming out of Darla's mouth. ( _She turned Jesse into a vampire-?_ ) The redhead then yelped in pain as Darla tightened her grip. ( _This, this can't be happening..._ )

The next moment, by coincidence, both Giles and Buffy came out of the library; then they stopped at the sight of Willow in the grip of the snarling vampiress. Darla saw the new arrivals and growled, "Well, it looks as if the gang's all here! Apart from the bimbo cheerleader, of course – and let's not forget your lover, Rupert. She was quite the screamer, before I finally ripped her throat out!"

"You – killed Ms. Calendar?" Buffy said in complete shock, unable to believe it and staring blankly at her former ally.

"You, you..." Giles was staring at Darla in sheer disbelief, before a raging hatred was born in his heart as the Watcher became a true believer. Drusilla's prophecy about everyone turning on her grandsire had finally come to pass, and there was no way to put the genie back in the bottle now.

"What? Did I drink that gypsy spy like the two-course meal she was? Laugh as your girlfriend begged me not to kill her and her unborn child? Yes, to both questions," Darla smirked, relishing the stricken expression on Rupert's face. "Ah, let me guess – that damned daughter of the Kalderash never told you she was pregnant? Well, then, I suppose it's pretty much pointless to say congratulations at this point – Daddy!"

"Darla, what – what's happened to you?" Buffy wanted to wake up from this horrible nightmare.

"Something wonderful," Darla bit back, her yellow eyes gleaming in the semi-darkness. "And trust me on this, if nothing else, Slayer – I WILL kill you for what you did to my sire, just like I'm going to kill that damned friend of yours over there for dusting Jesse!" It went without saying that Darla would have killed Xander anyway, on general principles, since he had been sent here by Whistler to aid the Slayer just as she had – but now, just like Anyanka earlier on today at City Hall, it was personal.

"What – have you, like, lost your soul or something?" Xander demanded, and then everyone human felt their eyes go wide as that thought sunk into their brains. "Oh my God, you HAVE!"

"Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, you're all going to die!" Darla growled, pinching Willow's cheek and eliciting another pained yelp from her. "So cute and helpless, isn't she? Reminds me of that gypsy girl, way back when..."

Darla's fangs were headed for Willow's throat – when all of a sudden, a strong wind began blowing in the school corridor. It quickly turned into a gale, as SOMETHING yanked Darla away from Willow, picking her up and hurling her all the way down the corridor.

"WHAT'S GOING ON?" Buffy screamed to be heard over the howl of the wind. She saw Darla crash into the door leading outside, before the vampiress furiously left the scene of battle – and then the wind started to die down.

"What the hell's going on out here?" Cordelia demanded, as she finally came out of the library.

"Oh dear Lord," Giles breathed, as he and everyone else saw the translucent ghost of Jesse McNally materialize near Xander.

"Jesse...?" Willow whispered, before she heard the words 'love you' quite clearly in her mind as McNally looked at her.

The Jesse ghost then turned his attention to Cordelia, looking apologetic, before staring Xander directly in the eye.

Harris immediately felt a burning sensation on his right arm – exactly where his Special Forces tattoo was, as a matter of fact. And even though no one could see it, the green beret on top of the skull and crossbones glowed briefly – imbued with an elemental force from beyond the grave.

'Green fire,' Harris heard the words echo in his skull, a portent of what was to come.

The last thing the ghost did was look upwards, as if in expectation.

High above on the ceiling, a bright light appeared, and the spirit of Jesse McNally dissolved into swirls of white mist that ascended to leave this world for the next. As quickly as it had appeared, the light on the ceiling was then gone.

"This damn town did it to me AGAIN!" Cordelia cried to no one in particular, trying to get Jesse's voice out of her head along with his farewell message: 'help Xander'.

* * *

**Outside 1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale**

**A short while later**

Giles' Citroen came to a halt outside Buffy's house, as Rupert pulled over and switched off the engine. Both Watcher and Slayer just sat there for a few moments, with the only noise to be heard that of the crickets outside.

Eventually, the British man broke the silence. "Buffy, you need to be extremely careful from now on – Darla, she'll-she'll come after you first, most likely. Her profile, uh, well, she – prior to the curse, the books describe how she hated Slayers with a passion, and if one adds your killing of the Master into the mix..."

"Yeah, I know. Bottom line is that without some kinda miracle here, I gotta kill her first chance I get. What about Xander, though? Darla seemed to have a major hate thing going for him too," Buffy replied, looking down.

"Yes, well, I spoke with the boy before we all left the school, I-I advised him to also be on his guard at all times. The coming days and weeks a-are going, are going to be hard...I, I suspect on all of us, but on you and him, especially," Rupert acknowledged.

"Giles, about what Darla said in that corridor..." Buffy started to say.

"Buffy. We've both been aware for some days that, that it – it had almost certainly come to this," Giles interrupted her, no sign of his inner rage and fury visible on his resigned, middle-aged face. "There's been nothing, no response to th-that spell I used to scry for Jenny's location. Darla must have killed her right from the start." That wasn't true as City Hall was warded against such spells, thanks to Richard Wilkins' handiwork, but then Giles and the others didn't know that.

"That's not what I meant, Watcher mine. Look, what Darla said about Ms. Calendar being some sorta spy, and being pregnant with your-"

Giles raised an arm to stop his charge from continuing with that sentence. "Buffy, the Watcher diaries are clear on how both Darla and Angelus often used psychological torture on their victims, for close to 150 years. In fact, the vampire known as Drusilla – the texts mention how those two drove the woman completely insane, before Angelus finally turned her into one of the undead. So we cannot trust anything Darla may have said on face value – not anymore."

"Yeah," Buffy said sadly. "But just between us, Giles – it's also possible Darla was telling the truth, isn't it? I mean, I get me the definite feeling that, uh, things had already gone that far between you and Ms. Calendar-?"

"Buffy, I'll only say this once. My private relationship with Jenny – is not your concern," Giles said bluntly. He was planning to get his weapons and fire-bomb Darla's apartment later tonight for revenge; even though he knew the odds were that the evil vampiress would have already abandoned the place.

"Yeah, you're right, I've totally overstepped my bounds," Miss Summers replied, knowing that the answer to her question was 'yes'. "Can we change the subject here?"

"Of course," Giles said with a significant sense of relief. "Uh, i-in your opinion, how's Willow coping with everything that's happened?"

"Weird as it sounds, I think the Jesse ghost showing up the way it did – that actually gave her some sense of, of closure. So I, I think she'll be okay, knowing that right now he's in a – a better place," Buffy semi-stammered, trying to get her emotions under control. "What happened in that corridor – that was way freaky, Giles. I mean, professionally speaking I've known for years how this sorta stuff exists – but that was the closest thing I've ever gotten to actually getting a glimpse of Heaven."

"Yes," Giles nodded, hoping that his beloved was up there right now and smiling down upon them. "But, um – have you given any thought as to what we should, ah, tell Jesse's parents? As far as I know, they're, they're completely ignorant regarding the true nature of the Hellmouth. I-it would seem a, um, a terribly cruel punishment to tell them nothing, but, but I fail to see how we can say anything concerning what r-r-really happened to their son..."

"You're right. I mean, what are we gonna say? That Jesse became a bloodsucking creature of the night, and he got staked at the mall by Xander? Here's his dusty remains, so sorry for your loss? They'd call for the men in white coats like straightaway," Buffy shuddered. "Y'know Giles, ever since the Master drowned me, I'd almost forgotten how this isn't a game. How people associated with the Slayage are going to die; Willow, Xander, Cordy, you, even me. Again. Only this time, Jesse won't be there to bring me back – 'cause I wasn't able to prevent him getting killed by someone we all trusted!"

"I-if it's blame you're looking for with respect to that, Buffy, I-I-I'm not your man. All you will get from me is, is my support. And my respect," Giles said, choking up a little. "No Watcher could, could ever ask for a finer Slayer."

Buffy smiled at him through her tears, before hugging her Watcher goodbye and going into her house. It had been too long since she and Joyce had done some mother-daughter bonding together, to remind the seventeen-year-old girl that there was more to life than battling the monsters that lurked in the darkness.

* * *

**The Master's cave, somewhere underneath Sunnydale**

**January 23rd, 1998**

The vampire that had been Billy Fordham was screaming in pain, just as he had been doing for the past forty-eight hours – because Collin needed a target to vent his fury upon, and the undead didn't go in for that whole 'kick the dog' thing.

Ford was strapped naked to a bed of nails, in the middle of the cavern. Collin was strolling around and inspecting the various bruises and burn marks his underling had accumulated, thanks to the beatings and the holy water the Anointed One had liberally splashed all over him. There were also half a dozen assorted vampires in attendance, bearing witness to the whole gory show.

It was important for the minions to understand the price for failure, after all.

"Let's start again. Why did you betray me?" Collin asked his captive calmly.

"I didn't! I DIDN'T!" Ford pleaded truthfully but also pointlessly, in between the screaming.

"The Judge is gone; possibly destroyed, but certainly lost to us. And you were spotted talking with the Slayer afterwards-"

"I was FIGHTING her! Summers was doing the whole pointless quip thing and I – AHHHHHHH!" Ford shrieked in agony as the holy water splashed directly onto his penis, which began to smoke and burn.

"I expected better from you, Ford. You were my firstborn, after all," Collin said with an expressionless look on his face. The little boy vampire was feeling very disappointed with his creation, vowing to be a lot more choosy with the next human he decided to turn into one of the undead.

"Please, master. I'll make it up to you; I'll do anything you want. ANYTHING!" Ford pleaded with his sire.

"Anything?" Collin looked down at the prisoner in distaste.

"YES! YES!"

"Would you kill your parents for me?"

"No problem!"

"Would you kill the Slayer for me?"

"In a heartbeat!"

"Would you kill Xander Harris for me?"

The hesitation lasted less than half a second, but to Collin, it almost seemed like an eternity before Ford screamed "Yes!" to that one as well. The Anointed One thought to himself, ( _A human that a vampire wants to remain alive and unharmed, to the point of going out of his way to protect him? That's so strange...what is it about that particular human that's so special? Perhaps I should make HIM my next childe, in order to find out._ )

"YOU'RE going to kill the Slayer's little friend? How quaint," Darla's sarcastic voice interjected, as she strode into the lion's den like a princess amongst peasants. Throwing the undead help aside left and right, Darla walked over to the Anointed One. "Hi. I'm Darla."

The Anointed One stared in curiosity at the vampiress standing brazenly before him. He'd heard the Master talk about Darla. And the stories he had told of her exploits! The legends of the matriarch commanding the Scourge of Europe were still whispered about today, here and there. Even with the soul, Collin had heard, she had massacred those gypsies that had cursed her before sinking into obscurity.

The Anointed One thought he could learn a lot from this particular vampiress...starting with why she helped the Slayer, and sided against her own kind.

"I know who you are. The Master used to speak to me about you," the undead boy intoned solemnly. "Why are you here, Darla?"

"To take my rightful place as the Master's successor, seeing as I'm the last direct descendant of the Order of Aurelius," Darla sent Collin a chilly smile.

"Others have tried to supplant me as the master of the Hellmouth. The mayor Richard Wilkins and Kakistos, to name just two. They were all better armed for the task than you. What makes you think you'll succeed where they failed?" the Anointed One demanded as his servants surrounded Darla completely.

"My own secret weapon, of course. ANYA!" Darla called out, summoning the demoness who appeared out of nowhere.

"Oh, for Yekk's sake. Olaf! Your troll lair is a complete mess!" Anyanka called out, oblivious to the confused stares of all the vampires. "Where are you? Come on, Olaf, this is no time to play games! Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

"Anya! As a wronged woman, I wish for you to burn the Anointed One – this MALE – into ashes right now!" Darla yelled, pointing at Collin and bracing herself for a quick getaway if the insane demoness didn't play ball.

"DONE!" Anyanka growled automatically, going into her demon face and staring at the child vampire. She could feel Darla's pain from the loss of Jesse, and even though her addled brain didn't remember why she'd actually agreed to come here earlier on, granting Wishes to females screaming for vengeance was second nature to her.

Collin was quickly consumed by a column of fire, screaming in pain and disbelief as he was unexpectedly erased from existence.

The king was dead. Long live the new queen of the damned, who would rule Sunnydale's vampires as Allan Finch's unwitting and unwilling servant.

TBC...


	13. Revelations

See Part One for Disclaimer and details. Hello, and welcome to chapter thirteen! That's only the second time I've ever been able to say that, oddly enough, as I've only once ever written so many chapters before; apart from my 31 Days of Xanderween series, I'm pretty sure this is my longest fanfic ever. Anyway, thanks as always to all my loyal readers and reviewers, and just to clear up something that a number of people have asked; Xander is NOT going to be the Key in this story. I figure Dawn will make a cameo appearance at the end, most likely. Anyway, let's get to the fic – and please don't forget to review!

* * *

**Part Thirteen: Revelations**

**The Bronze, Sunnydale**

**January 28th, 1998**

Cordelia Chase was sitting alone on a couch within the teen nightclub, only vaguely listening to the band called Lotion playing their song 'Blind For Now'. Because most of her attention was focused on what had happened to Jesse last week, and his spirit's farewell message to her before passing out of this reality.

To be honest, all that had freaked out the Chase girl a lot more than the Jesse vampire attacking her at the mall. Sad to say, but this was Sunnydale – and so, such attacks were more borderline normal than anything else for her, these days. But seeing an actual ghost and hearing his voice in her head had caused Cordelia quite a few sleepless nights lately.

( _Yeesh. Couldn't the stupid dumbass have been a little more specific, and said something other than just 'help Xander' like that?_ ) Cordelia thought to herself in sudden annoyance. ( _I mean, help him do what? Save the world? Fit in better at Sunnydale High? Get a girlfriend? WHAT?_ )

That particular line of thought quickly brought to mind the dinner date Xander had taken her on last Friday. He'd been a perfect gentleman throughout the evening, making no mention of the wild kiss they'd shared within the National Guard armory. Xander had picked her up in his uncle's car, taken her to a four-star French restaurant, spent a copious amount of money on her, driven her home and then – nothing!

Xander hadn't called once during the weekend, and the following Monday, the annoying jerk hadn't even asked if she'd like to go out on another date with him. It was like after taking her out to dinner, he'd just discharged some sort of personal debt or something – like paying a parking ticket, and then simply forgetting about it afterwards!

And that was definitely a big no-no in Cordelia's book. SHE was the one who didn't call after the first date, which then forced the other party to beg for another chance!

( _Unbelievable,_ ) Cordelia thought to herself, leaning back and folding her arms. ( _I mean, instead of being the centre of Xander's entire goddamn universe, it's like – it's like I almost don't exist to him. Oh my God, I'm crushing on the one boy who practically treats me – ME of all people! – like I'm part of the scenery! What – am I being punished for the sins of a past life, or something?_ )

"Hey, Cordy," Willow said distractedly, as she sat down on the couch as well.

"Hi." Cordelia abruptly swiveled her head around to stare at the redhead. "Willow, can I ask you something?"

Willow shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. What?"

"Well, you were a guy for one night three months ago," the Chase girl said, which immediately made Miss Rosenberg uncomfortable with the reference to being Ned Nederlander during Halloween. "So you'd have an insight into the way guys think, right?"

"Um – sorta. Well, I guess," Willow semi-stammered, even though she had done her best to repress those memories just like Buffy and Jesse. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, it's Xander."

"What about him?"

"It's just – he's such a guy," Cordelia said in annoyance, as Willow stared at her in confusion. "It's like he's there, but then he's not there, and he wants it, but then he doesn't want it."

"Uh...what?" Willow replied, looking completely lost.

"It's like one moment he's ramming his tongue down a girl's throat, but then he's just kissing her hand like some old-fashioned stick-in-the-mud like Giles, and then he's practically jumping someone's bones in public, but then he doesn't even call during the weekend, and what the hell is the matter with that guy if he can't see what's standing right in front of him?" Cordelia ranted, much to Willow's confusion.

"Um, Cordelia? What exactly was your question again?" Willow asked as placatingly as possible, since she was still hopelessly lost. "How do guys think, or-or what's wrong with Xander?"

"Oh, forget it," Miss Chase threw her arms up in exasperation.

"I mean, if you want someone to tell you about, y'know, quick-draw pistol skills, or-or how to survive falling out of the sky and landing directly on your head, then I'm your girl, but-" Willow started to say.

"I said, forget it!" Cordelia cut her off ruthlessly. "Let's talk about something else. ANYTHING else!"

Not far away, Anyanka was watching Cordelia carefully, waiting for Willow to depart so as to approach the brunette in order to grant her a Wish; the Chase girl's pain had easily attracted her interest tonight. Growing impatient, the mad woman was about to approach both female teens...

When Cordelia's head abruptly dipped down, before snapping up again. Anyanka watched in surprise as her intended client grabbed the other simpering mortal's hand and dragged her away from the couch, just moments before a huge, growling werewolf smashed its way through the roof to land on the coffee table near the couch.

( _Aw, puppy,_ ) Anyanka thought to herself happily, feeling no fear whatsoever as the rest of the Bronze patrons began to panic and scream and run for the exits. ( _I wish I could take you home; it's been ages since I've had a decent pet! You were the one who killed all those evil bunnies in the forest last night, weren't you? Oh, you cute little werewolf – you deserve a sturdy doghouse, a bowl of water, and an extra-tough plastic chew bone..._ )

But that was not to be, as Anyanka's pathologically disturbed mind got distracted by another thought. She stared at Cordelia and thought, ( _You knew the puppy was coming. One-two-three, up straightaway – oh yes, you knew! How did you know? Hmmm. Oh! You have the sight, don't you? Just like Cassandra of Troy. She was such a big dummy, turning down a god like that! Well, never mind – I'll just have to find some other woman to help, ta-ta for now then..._ )

With that, Anyanka vanished from the Bronze just before Buffy showed up to try to bag the werewolf using a length of chain and her Slayer super-strength. She failed, unfortunately, which meant that there was only one night left to catch the mystically cursed canine before the coming of the next full moon.

* * *

**Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

**January 30th, 1998**

The high school senior named Daniel 'Oz' Osborne walked out of the library, having had a very long talk with Rupert Giles just a short while before. Because he was the werewolf, and his eyes had just been opened to the real world all around him – a few weeks later than it would have otherwise happened, true, but better late than never.

( _I'm a werewolf. Huh. Wouldn't have believed it without that videotape footage Mr. Giles took earlier on,_ ) Oz thought to himself, recalling what it was like waking up naked within the library's book cage, getting dressed and then watching that TV monitor in absolute fascination. ( _It musta happened after Jordy bit me last week. And having to lock myself up three nights a month from now on, that doesn't sound like fun, either. Soon as I graduate, I'm gonna hafta leave town and find a cure for this..._ )

Oz walked alone, seemingly unaware of Buffy and Willow staring at him. The Slayer said, "This is all so weird. I mean, how are we supposed to act when we see him around the school now?"

Willow shrugged, as she and her best friend headed outside into the quad. "Well, it's gotta be weird for Oz, too. Now that he knows we know everything 'n all."

"Yeah, I suppose. Uh, I guess I should mention – Will, I'm pretty sure he was kinda in to you. Y'know, before," Buffy said tentatively, as a number of students passed her by. "There was definite interest in the 'potential boyfriend' sort of way."

Willow waited until they were alone again before saying, "I know. But Buffy...you remember what happened on Halloween?"

"Not if I can possibly avoid it," Miss Summers grimaced.

"Well, I haven't forgotten. See, ever since that night I've been having certain – feelings. At the start, I-I thought they'd go away. But, uh, they haven't," Willow confessed shyly.

"What feelings? Will, what are you talking about?" Buffy asked blankly.

The Rosenberg girl drew in a big breath, again making sure that no one was within earshot. "Even if I'd said yes to his offer of a movie date last week, it wouldn't have worked out between Oz and me because – because he's not my type."

"Not your type? You mean, because he's in a band? Hey, I know Cordy's been saying lots of mean stuff about her ex, Devon, lately...but you shouldn't let her influence-"

"No, Buffy, you still don't get it," Willow interrupted, her frustration and nervousness temporarily overriding her grief concerning the deaths of two people she had been very close to. "How can I put this – uh, remember when Jesse was crushing on Ms. Calendar, before they both died? Well...he had competition."

"Competition? What do you..." the Slayer said uncomprehendingly, before Buffy's eyes went wide as she finally got hit by the clue-by-four. "OH! You mean-?"

"Yeah," Willow said with a nervous smile, wondering if coming out like this was a really bad idea.

"Oh. Um...well...that's great. You know, I mean, I-I, that's great, Will. I mean, you know, things like this you have to – you have to follow your heart, Will. And that's what's important, Will."

"Why do you keep saying my name like that?" the redhead asked, frowning at her best friend.

"Like what, Will?" Buffy asked, still trying to deal with this particular curve ball; one she'd never seen coming.

"Are you freaked?" Willow asked, looking fearful that Buffy was going to end their friendship over this.

"What? No, Willow, d-" Buffy stopped and sighed. "No. No, absolutely 'no' to that question. It's kinda unexpected, sure, but Hellmouth 'n all – you gotta raise the bar a lot on what actually constitutes freak-worthy around here." The blonde noticed Willow looking skeptical and added, "I'm glad you told me."

Willow nodded. "It's just that after what happened to Jesse and Ms. Calendar, not to mention what almost happened to Oz with that werewolf hunter – I figured life is too short to hide who and what I am these days. Kinda dumb, huh?"

"Yeah. I mean, no, I mean – well, you know what I mean," Buffy said good-naturedly, giving Willow a friendly little nudge and a smile.

"So we're okay?" Willow asked, hoping with all her heart that it was true.

"Yeah, just as long as you don't start offering me flowers and candy," Buffy said kiddingly, before hastily adding, "And you do know that was just a joke, right?"

"Buffy, it's okay. I mean you don't go for every cute boy you meet, right? You can relax, I don't have a crush on you or anything," Willow explained calmly. As long as Buffy hadn't rejected her presence out of hand, everything was hunky-dory as far as she was concerned.

"Oh," Buffy said, feeling relieved and yet also a tiny bit annoyed that not only could she not find a decent boyfriend, even a female friend who swung that way wasn't attracted to her. ( _What's_ _wrong with me, anyway? I betcha I could land just about any girl in this school, if I put my mind to it – okay, hold on, definitely NOT going there!_ )

"So, are you planning to tell your parents about this?" Buffy inquired as she and Willow sat down on a bench.

"Not yet," Willow shook her head. "I mean, my mom and dad – not the type I share heart-to-heart's with. 'Cause the last time we had a conversation that lasted over three minutes, it was about the patriarchal bias of the 'Mr. Rogers' show; a-and my mother still thinks your name is actually Bunny Summers."

"Yikes," the Chosen One made a face at hearing that, before the bell for the next class rang. "Come on, we've got Algebra next. All those quadratic equations, they practically give me hives..."

"Well, at least it's not clothes off the rack, like in Cordelia's case," Willow shrugged as the female pair headed back inside the main building.

* * *

**Sunnydale High Library, Sunnydale**

**Later that lunchtime**

Rupert Giles had been very busy ever since his conversation with Oz this morning, which had involved both a globe and a moon and a lot of questions about the 'night life' in Sunnydale. After the bass guitarist had left, the Watcher had spent part of his time going over Darla's old hunting habits, and part of his time planning an attack on her new lair once it was located – when something he'd read had triggered a virtual brainstorm.

"Giles? What's going on? This place looks like an advertisement for a 'going out of business' sale at the local Barnes & Noble," Buffy commented, entering the library with Willow.

"Yeah, Giles," Willow added, seeing the mess and all the assorted books on the tables and the floor. "What gives? It's not the apocalypse again, is it? 'Cause I thought that was all over and done with for now!"

"No, uh, it's-it's nothing to do with the, um, the Judge," Giles said absently, his mind still absorbing information from one of his ancient tomes. Then he looked up and stared at the female teens. "It has to do with your Slayer dreams, Buffy."

"But I haven't had one since – uh, that time where Darla was killed by some demon or other," Buffy replied, screwing up her face in concentration. "Which, gotta hate the symbolism but nowadays, we pretty much know what that one means."

"No, not that dream. I, I was referring to the ones where you dreamed you were at the beach, and young Mr. Harris came out of the ocean covered in green fire," Giles said tightly.

"Oh, right! And on the night we saw Jesse's ghost and all, didn't Xander say afterwards that he heard Jesse's voice saying 'green fire' inside his head?" Willow asked.

"Indeed," Giles nodded, dropping his book onto the closest table. "The thing is, I-I'd forgotten where I'd heard of the Green Fire avatar until now."

"Green fire avatar? What's that?" Buffy demanded.

Giles sat on the edge of the table, and began to lecture the two girls. "I was examining Darla's connection to the Master and the Old Ones, in case she ever decides to, to complete what he started last year, a-and open the Hellmouth. That's when I remembered about the Tobaic Ritual of Destruction-"

"Someone once tried to vanquish a tobacco demon?" Buffy interrupted in surprise.

"Tobaic, not-not tobacco," Giles tried to be patient with his charge's mangling of the ritual's name. "It's, well, a very ancient rite, a-a sort of all-purpose destruction ritual – one that, that, that was said to have been used against a number of the Old Ones who walked the Earth, before humankind finally took control of this reality. The ritual was said to have been crafted by avatars of, of the four elements – Red Water, Black Wind, White Earth and Green Fire."

"Catchy names," Buffy commented with a frown.

"So...Xander's going to become an avatar of this Green Fire thingy?" Willow asked in confusion. "Giles, what's that mean?"

"Well, that's the thing – if, if past precedent is any indication, something of almost apocalyptic nature," Giles replied, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"Ya wanna run that by me again, Watcher mine?" Buffy said with immediate apprehension. "Is Xander about to turn evil?"

"That's not – well, uh, that's too simplistic a question, Buffy. Human definitions of, of good and evil don't apply to avatars of the four elements. They simply – are," Giles said slowly, putting his glasses back on. "You, uh, you may as well ask if, if fire itself is evil. Or water, or wind, or the earth beneath our feet."

"Then why are you looking so worried, Giles?" Willow asked, still looking confused.

The Watcher exhaled. "As I said, an avatar of the four elements always heralds the-the arrival of something almost apocalyptic in nature. For example, the last recorded appearance of the embodiment of Red Water – well, that coincided with when the city of Atlantis was, um, utterly destroyed. The-the entire continent sank beneath the Atlantic, killing tens of thousands of people as well as sealing a demon portal to Hell," Giles said, even as the two girls' eyes went wide.

"What about the others?" Buffy asked, not liking the sound of this.

"Um, White Earth, that-that avatar practically destroyed the Mayan civilization with a series of earthquakes, in order to prevent the spread of a, um, a deadly plague o-of some sort. Black Wind, uh, the city of Tanis in Egypt – it, it was completely buried by an incredible desert storm, thanks to that avatar's actions," Rupert recalled. "This, ah, effectively protected the Ten Commandments within the Ark of the Covenant from the forces of evil, as well killing all of Tanis's human inhabitants."

"And Green Fire?" Willow asked, looking shocked at Giles' revelations.

"That one, well – there are, errr, conflicting stories. Some say the last appearance of an avatar for that element was in Rome, during the reign of the Emperor Nero – where, where a number of hellgods manifesting in human form were supposed to have been wiped out, when the city was burned to the ground. Others insist the last manifestation of Green Fire took place in Carthage during 697 AD; the city was the, the site of a Hellmouth, you see, and i-i-it was crawling with vampires-"

"Just like Sunnydale," Buffy interrupted, looking more than a little anxious now.

"But I thought that Carthage was destroyed by the Arabs, when they invaded it back then?" Willow asked uncertainly, recalling that piece of trivia from History class.

"That is, um, one school of thought, yes. However, according to some historians, the-the invaders took control there approximately eight years later. That leaves, well, quite a gap in the historical record, and no one can really be sure what happened..." Giles trailed off. "Even the Watcher diaries of the Slayer assigned to the place were destroyed, a-and a new Chosen One was subsequently called in China to deal with, with the rising threat of the undead there."

There was a short silence as the three of them stared at each other. All those present knew that at that point, a fourth voice – one that was now gone – would have spoken up to lighten the atmosphere with a joke or a quip of some sort. The unwelcome quiet made Willow, Buffy and Giles miss Jesse all the more, driving home just how final death was.

"So, Giles, what do you think all this means for Xander? If he tries to burn down Sunnydale at some point, am I – am I gonna have to kill him?" Buffy asked hollowly.

"Buffy, y-you don't understand. You CAN'T kill one of the avatars of the four elements!" Giles told her emphatically, jumping up off the table and shaking his head.

"Why not? It's sorta in the job description, isn't it – preventing innocent people from getting slaughtered?" Buffy demanded.

"Buffy. To the best of my knowledge, whenever a-a-an avatar appears – be it of Red Water, Black Wind, White Earth OR Green Fire – it's because their presence is necessary to prevent Armageddon. There's always a, a raison d'être for their actions, even if we can't recognize it beforehand. And we've known since the beginning, from-from Mr. Harris's own admission, that he was sent here for a reason. A, a higher purpose if you will. Apparently, this is it," Giles said earnestly.

"I don't care! It's not Xander's job to destroy Sunnydale, and possibly the rest of the state while he's at it! I won't let that happen!" Buffy said stubbornly. She then turned around and stormed out of the library.

"You'd best go after her. And, and make sure Buffy understands that she's to say nothing of this to the young man in question," Giles ordered Willow earnestly. "Our lives could quite literally depend on it."

Willow nodded, taking off to chase after her best friend. Giles just collapsed onto the nearest chair, debating with himself over whether to report what he'd learned to his superiors in England. ( _Bleeding hell. I've been living here in the colonies for too long, I suspect – this time last year, I wouldn't have hesitated to report something so important! Maybe Travers was right, and I bloody well have gone native..._ )

But in the end he decided not to do it, as Rupert knew that there was a faction within the Watchers – the one enamored of hidebound, strict tradition – which would push for Buffy's immediate termination, if they learned she was going to try to prevent an avatar of one of the four elements from carrying out its purpose. Not to mention that the faction would probably also try to directly control the avatar, which could be equally disastrous.

( _Damn it all, Buffy, I can protect you only so far. And good Lord, I hope we all survive what's coming..._ )

* * *

**The Bronze, Sunnydale**

**January 31st, 1998**

It was Saturday night within the only worthwhile club in town, as Ford watched Xander playing pool with a cute redhead – one of the Slayer's groupies, he knew that, but still a nice piece of ass which the soulless vampire wouldn't mind tapping if opportunity knocked.

Speaking of opportunity – Ford was very lucky that Darla had ordered him to be released a week ago, right after Collin had been eliminated, and he knew it. The wounds from the torture inflicted by the Anointed One had taken ages to heal; and since he'd been tortured for so-called incompetence, he was now totally outside the pale within the undead community. A leftover from the old regime, who was not trusted by the new master vampire of the Hellmouth.

( _Never mind – I'll be able to get into Darla's inner circle eventually, I'm sure of that,_ ) Ford thought to himself. ( _I'll just have to – hello, what's this?_ )

Intrigued, Ford followed another of Buffy's associates – the big-breasted brunette he had seen at the mall alongside Xander, the night the Judge had gotten blown up – as she headed out of the Bronze into the alley outside, with some guy wearing a letterman jacket.

Cordelia, for it was she, somehow managed to avoid the groping hands of Lance Brooks as she led him out of the Bronze. By this point, months of exposure to the enchanted jacket had increased her resistance to its effects – enough to now be able to ignore Lance's charisma, anyway, as Cordy led her date somewhere private.

Somewhere she could hopefully obtain the jacket and, later, use it to force Xander to realize that NO ONE did what he'd done to her!

"You know, Cordelia, you've really – uh, what's the word I'm looking for here? Oh yeah, you've definitely 'blossomed' over the last year or so," the semi-drunk Lance said, as his head swayed from side to side. "You've always been beautiful, but now you're like the, the one and only queen of Sunnydale High!"

Cordelia couldn't help agreeing with Lance as they arrived in a secluded corner of the alley. ( _Yeah, that's true enough. 'Cause I may not be a senior yet, but there's a reason why I'm known as 'Queen C' around here!_ ) "Say – I love your jacket, Lance. Do you mind if I try it on? It's so cool and all, it'd be like the perfect fashion accessory for me!"

Under normal circumstances, Lance would have refused straightaway. The yellow and maroon jacket with the big 'S' on the left side had been handed down to him by his father, who had given his son strict instructions to never let it out of his grasp. But, as said, he was horny and kinda drunk, and so Brooks granted Cordelia's request. "Here you go, babe. Now, how about you give me some sugar?"

Without warning, Lance plunged his lips onto Cordelia's while she was holding the letterman jacket in her hands. Swallowing her initial impulse to swear and shove him away, Cordelia endured the sloppy, overenthusiastic kiss for as long as she could before breaking contact.

With a dazzling, wide-eyed, yet totally false smile, Miss Chase then said, "Wow! That was fantastic. Um, just let me try this on..."

"Don't think it fits you, sweetheart," Lance laughed drunkenly, as Cordy tried in vain to put the jacket on. "Now, where were we?"

"I'd say, you were about to spring for dinner," Ford said as he showed up on the scene. His game face was visible in the dim light of the alley, and he looked hungry.

"What are you-" Brooks started to say, before the vampire knocked him out cold.

Ford smirked, unable to hold back his glee as he stared at the helpless Happy Meal lying on the ground. Unlike his formerly human self, who would have been horrified at the spectacle, the fledgling vampire was quite enjoying himself. ( _I should torture you before I kill you, but first things first._ )

Ford then turned his attention to Cordy and said, "Now, before we get to the fun part, I think we should talk about the ethics of cheating on your boyfriend."

"What, what boyfriend?" Cordelia stammered, cursing herself for ever ending up in this position – alone, and about to become dead by exsanguination. ( _Please, God, save me and I swear I won't use the jacket to turn Xander into my personal slave – I'll GIVE it to him instead, and-and we can start dating once he becomes as popular as I am! _)

"You little tramp. You know damn well who I mean," Ford growled at the cheerleader in reply to her question. "Did you think I didn't see you and Xan together at the mall that night? Add that to the fact that he's kept one eye on you all evening-"

"He did?" Cordelia interrupted excitedly, before abruptly recalling where she was. Instinctively reverting to type she said snootily, "Well, so what? I'm Cordelia Chase, pal. EVERYBODY keeps an eye on me, everywhere I go!"

"You whore! Man, I'm gonna enjoy this-"

But just as Fordham was about to grab Cordelia and drink her, a feminine hand crashed into the side of his head with inhuman strength.

"CORDELIA, RUN!" Buffy shouted, and the rich girl was only too glad to oblige – heading straight back into the safety of the crowded Bronze.

"Hello, Summers. It's been a while," Ford said with his trademark grin after shaking his head to clear it of the pain, and the fight got started.

"Too long," Buffy replied, ducking Ford's roundhouse kick and punching the vampire in the solar plexus, and then again directly between the eyes. "This ends now, Ford."

"Yeah? Nice punch," Ford grunted, swaying aside to avoid the Slayer's next blow before hitting Buffy with a right cross to the jaw. "But not good enough. You're gonna hafta to do better than that – 'cause in case you didn't notice, Summers, I'm not a newbie anymore, and there's a new order in this town nowadays!"

Buffy paused for a moment. "So the rumors are true? The Annoying One really is dead?"

"Yep, Darla's in charge now," Ford said with a satanic smile on his demonic face, as the fight resumed. "And I swear, you oughta hear the stories she tells about you! Always whining about how you don't have a boyfriend. So, what the heck – if you're THAT desperate, you want for me to step up and fill the role? I mean, if no one human wants to touch you..."

"That's not gonna work, not anymore. Neither will that crack about how Xander will never forgive me for what I did at Hemery – because newsflash, he's already done it!" Buffy said in between a flurry of blows and kicks.

"You're lying!" the soulless vampire snarled, the first cracks in Ford's merry exterior starting to show.

"Am I? You wanna know the truth, Ford? The only person Xander hates these days is you. And not just the vampire you – the human you as well," Buffy taunted her enemy as her left foot slammed into his face, and Ford flew back ten feet and his back hit the alley wall. "You can fool yourself about it as much as you like, but you decided to become a mass murderer, and that's something he'll never forgive – and neither will I."

"What makes you think I want or need anyone's forgiveness, Summers? Evil undead here, remember?" Ford taunted her back, even though Buffy's words had hit home in his mind. "Well, gotta go; another time, sweetheart!" the bloodsucker called out, before vanishing from the alley with vampire super-speed.

"Another time," Buffy muttered to herself, going over to check on the unconscious Lance Brooks.

"Well, unless that Green Fire thingy kills you before I can..."

TBC...


	14. Hex In The City

See Part One for Disclaimer and details. Welcome, one and all! The reviews keep comin' and so I gotta keep on thankin' all of you who send me feedback, positive or negative – it truly makes me happy that people are actually reading this story! Please, keep it up. Craig T, I'd like to thank you for your review on the last chapter as well. Well, we're well into the second half of season 2 now, so here you go – my own rather twisted version of the B, B and B episode. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Part Fourteen: Hex In The City**

**Crawford Street, Sunnydale**

**February 12th, 1998**

In her private quarters within an abandoned mansion, Darla was chaining herself to the wall as she waited for the very late Anyanka to show up.

Ever since killing the Anointed One and taking over as the queen of Sunnydale's vampire population, not to mention flushing out Collin's loyalists along the way, Darla had moved her base of operations away from the Master's cave. Not only did the place hold too many bad memories, it simply didn't have the view she craved. To someone that was used to living in the finest hotels before the soul had been imposed upon her, there was no question of setting up shop in an abandoned warehouse or some place like that, either.

Thus, Darla had chosen this mansion as her new home, the exact same one Angelus would have chosen – for all the reasons he would have had to move in here, too. It was a very quiet neighborhood, and nobody really lived near anybody else. There was excellent sewer access, and there was plenty of room for all the minions.

Plus, it had a great view in all directions, which greatly reduced the threat of a sneak attack.

But that wasn't what was occupying Darla's thoughts right now. She hadn't had her regular dose of the tranquilizer needed to keep her soul suppressed, and so, Soul Girl was starting to wake up and take over.

( _NO!_ ) the inner vampire demon screamed, as Darla began to thrash about in her chains. ( _Damn it, Anya, where are you?_ )

Darla felt sick as the soul finally woke up, and remembered what the demon had done. ( _Oh, God, no...NO!_ )

While the demon had viewed Jenny as competition, the soul had viewed her and Giles as friendly acquaintances...not quite friends, but also not strangers. The ensouled version of Darla remembered the manner of Jenny's death and the death of her unborn baby, which broke something inside her.

While she may not have felt much guilt over her past misdeeds, if only because in many cases, Darla hadn't even KNOWN the people involved – in this case, the victim was someone she knew relatively well...the girlfriend of someone she knew well...and the innocent, unborn child of two people she knew well.

The guilt swallowed Darla whole, causing the inner demon to howl with sheer fury.

A minute later, Anyanka appeared in the master bedroom and shoved the pill into the undead blonde's mouth. Almost at once, the demon felt the soul's shackles fall away as the artificial ecstasy spread throughout her mind.

"It's about time you got here!" Darla then grumbled to Anyanka. "That damned soul of mine...no, never mind, that's irrelevant right now. What IS relevant is that I want more of those pills as an emergency reserve, in case you forget to show up on time again – now give them to me!"

"I will not," Anyanka said haughtily. "And there's nothing you can do or say to make me, either. So nyah, nyah-nyah-nyah, nyah!"

( _Crazy bitch,_ ) Darla thought to herself angrily, before forcibly calming down and asking Anyanka to free her from her chains, whereupon the demoness obliged. Deciding to switch tactics the vampire queen then said reasonably, "Anya, it's not just about what I want – you do realize that, don't you? It's also about whether or not I can keep my minions under control for you. And your boss at City Hall – he wouldn't be pleased if Soul Girl took over again, would he?"

Darla's words were mostly a bluff – she didn't know if Anyanka's mysterious employer was a man, or whether he was based at City Hall, despite the vengeance demon bringing her there to free her and feast on Jenny Calendar last month. But nothing ventured, nothing gained; and it was the height of foolishness for the vampire demon to depend on the drugs for long-term freedom.

"Allan? Don't worry about him. I'm in charge where the leeches like you are concerned," Anyanka said in reply, inadvertently revealing valuable information before she teleported away in blissful ignorance of what she'd just done.

( _Allan. Was she talking about Allan Finch, the new mayor? Most likely,_ ) Darla thought to herself with a shark-like smile. ( _Well. It looks like I have some digging to do..._ )

* * *

**Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

**February 13th, 1998**

Cordelia had been doing a little digging herself lately, as she walked up the stairs towards the school holding a rather large brown paper bag. Namely, she'd had to learn what Xander's sizes were in order to tailor the enchanted letterman jacket to fit him just right.

Ever since she'd acquired the damn thing, Cordy had faced some moral dilemmas – even brushing aside Buffy's questions regarding what she'd been up to that night. Technically, she'd stolen the magical jacket from Lance, and thievery was something Miss Chase had always considered beneath her.

But, on the other hand, one could also argue that Brooks had willingly given the jacket to her and she had 'paid' for the item in question – in terms of allowing that loser to make out with her, and putting herself in danger of getting killed by Xander's nutty vampire stalker.

It was a shyster's argument, sure, but one that Cordy could live with, especially since she'd spent good money altering the jacket to flawlessly fit her crush – and she could also truthfully say she'd dropped the jacket somewhere in the Bronze, after Lance had inquired about his property's whereabouts the next day.

"Cordelia! We so have to talk about our outfits for the Valentine's Day dance," Harmony said breathlessly, as she and the Cordettes converged around their leader. "You didn't call me last night, so I was worried-"

"You were worried about ME?" Cordy interrupted smoothly, with that superior tone she always used to keep her sheep in line. "That's not your job, Harmony. Anyway, I'm wearing red and black to the dance, so you need to wear something else."

"But I just got this brand new Vera Wang – uh, no, never mind," Harmony said hastily, seeing Queen C glaring in her direction.

"So who's taking you to the dance, Cordelia? I heard Larry's been asking if you're available," the Cordette named Kate spoke up, referring to the junior football team quarterback.

"Larry? That big meathead?" Cordelia snorted. Lately, she'd been getting weird vibes from that guy – even though Xander hadn't forced the jock to face the fact that he was gay, during werewolf season. "I don't think so."

"Then who? You're not thinking of getting back together with Devon, are you?" the Cordette named Lisa asked.

"That retard? As if," Cordelia said disdainfully. "If you must know, it's going to be a surprise. Now, I'll see you guys in first period – I have something important to do." So saying, the brunette quickly left her confused followers behind and headed for Xander's locker.

While she waited for him, Cordelia again wondered if she was doing the right thing here. But she'd made a deal with God, and since He had come through in the form of Buffy Summers, Cordy figured it would be better to keep up her end of the bargain.

Otherwise, the next time – the Lord might not be quite so keen to save her life.

"Uch, I've been waiting here for ages! Where have you been?" Cordelia demanded as soon as Harris showed up.

"Library. Lemme ask you something – have you noticed anything weird about Summers, Willow and Giles lately?" Xander asked, frowning.

"You mean, the way they've all been keeping you at arm's length and spying on you both at school and at the Bronze? Sure. What, don't tell me you haven't?" Cordy asked straightforwardly.

Xander shook his head. ( _Tact Girl, this chick is not!_ ) "Yeah, I've noticed that. But the funny thing is – they're also acting like they're afraid of me for some reason. Kinda reminds me of what Soldier Guy saw during the war, whenever someone was suspected of being a Viet Cong infiltrator."

"If you say so," Cordelia shrugged. She didn't know anything about the whole Green Fire avatar business because she wasn't part of the Slayer's inner circle, and so no one had seen fit to confide the truth to her.

Miss Chase just thrust the brown paper bag into Xander's hands and said, "Here. Happy Valentine's Day."

"You got me a Valentine's Day present?" Xander asked in surprise, examining the paper bag.

"You don't have to make a big deal out of it, and it's not like I'm expecting anything from you," Cordelia tossed her hair to one side, trying to appear casual. "You're not my boyfriend, after all."

"Yeah, but – it just strikes me as kinda odd, is all. We went on one date, and you're giving me a gift for Valentine's Day," Xander said slowly, staring at Cordelia strangely.

( _Well, considering that vision I had last night of us making out at the Bronze..._ ) But all Cordy said was, "Look, I'm just getting rid of some junk that came into my possession, and I thought you might as well have it – since you could do with something to help improve your social standing around here. I mean, you've been in Sunnydale for what, four months? And the closest thing you have to friends is me and the Library Loser Legion!" she said scornfully.

Xander ripped open the bag and examined the contents. "Whoa!"

Whoa indeed. The letterman jacket looked brand new, with a different colored 'S' over the left breast and the smaller '99' to the right of it, indicating the year of graduation. Harris quickly slipped the jacket on, and immediately noted how it was a precise fit for him. He said to Cordelia suspiciously, "Getting rid of some junk that came into your possession, huh? I gotta wonder, what are the odds that it'd fit me perfectly like this?"

"All right, so I may have made a few modifications to the jacket here and there, after I got my hands on it. What, is that a crime?" Cordelia demanded, eyes flashing.

Xander exhaled. "Cordelia – (a), thanks for the gift, but (b), why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"This. The whole gift thing, and everything else," Xander gestured between them. "'Cause apart from what happened during Halloween, we have practically nothing in common. You're rich; I'm not. You're a cheerleader; I'm not even on a sports team. You're practically the most popular girl in school; I can count the number of people who speak to me on two hands. There's gotta be heaps of other guys out there, who are better suited for you than me. So why the interest in yours truly?"

Maybe it was because of that vision Cordelia had had that she and Xander were destined to be together, at some point soon.

Maybe it was just a remnant of Jasmine's former plan to get herself born into the mortal world.

Or maybe it was as Jenny had said to Enyos months ago: the heart wants what it wants, and pays no attention to what the head is telling it.

"I'm outta here, this conversation is so over. And consider my good deed for the year done, already," Cordelia said in reply to Xander's question, turning around and marching off as the bell rang. Miss Chase tried not to think about Xander's eyes drilling into her back as she walked away, since she knew that he wasn't satisfied with the explanation she'd given him.

( _Well, too late to worry about that now. I just hope the jacket's mojo starts working soon! 'Cause I've invested a lot of time and effort in this..._ )

* * *

**The Bronze, Sunnydale**

**Later that night**

Willow watched Xander carefully, wondering what the heck was going on with that guy.

It had all started with Ms. Beakman's American Literature class earlier today. Xander had been wearing a Sunnydale High letterman jacket, one that she'd never seen him wear before, and practically the entire female portion of the class couldn't keep their eyes off him. Even she herself had been a little distracted, despite her newly acknowledged attraction towards girls.

At the end of the class, Willow had seen her friend Amy Madison giving Xander strange looks, before she had performed some mind-control magic on the teacher. When Willow had confronted her about it, Amy had sworn her to secrecy about the spell after admitting she was desperate and hadn't had a chance to do the homework – and then, Amy had confessed that she'd constantly been having lustful thoughts about a boy she'd never even glanced twice at before today.

The rest of the day had only gotten stranger. Students and teachers had started gravitating towards Harris and engaging him in conversation in the school corridors, despite the amazed look on Xander's face regarding what was happening. Pretty soon Cordelia had started hanging alongside him, and deftly handling all the questions being thrown his way.

Questions like, "Would you like to be on the Prom committee this year, Xander?", "We sure could use you on the team, Xander, are you interested in joining?", and even "The school newspaper would like to interview you, Mr. Harris, when would be a good time?"

"Buffy, I just don't get it," Willow said to her best friend standing alongside her. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear Xander's done some sort of love spell on himself, everyone's treating him like a rock star or something! But look at his face – it's obvious the guy doesn't know what's going on anymore than we do. I – Buffy?" the redhead asked, as she saw the blonde Slayer staring at Xander. "Buffy! Are you listening to me?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, Willow," Buffy nodded absently, her eyes still fixed on Xander's inexplicably attractive physical form. "I just realized – it's funny how you can see someone every day, but not really see them. You know what I mean, right?"

( _Oh God, she's falling under the spell or whatever it is!_ ) Willow thought desperately, and so she dragged Miss Summers out of the teen club. "Buffy? Vampires. You gotta get out there and slay! Darla's still on the loose, remember? Not to mention Ford, too!"

"Oh yeah..." the Chosen One finally seemed to snap out of it as they walked out the club's front door, she knew that Friday night was prime hunting time after all.

Back in the Bronze, Cordelia was totally in her element. She was hanging off Xander's arm, not to mention rubbing elbows with all the right people who were coming up to talk to him. Sure, the guy was looking kinda dazed and confused right now, but she could deal with that-

"What the hell's going on?" Xander muttered, wanting some privacy and inadvertently yanking Cordelia along with him – when they collided with Lance Brooks.

"Cordelia, you slut – what did you do with my jacket?" Lance snarled at the brunette. He was at the end of his tether with regard to his lost property, which he failed to recognize as what Xander was wearing due to Cordy's alterations.

"Hey, pal, that's no way to talk to a lady!" Xander said sternly, he didn't know who this guy was but he wasn't about to let him speak to Cordelia like that.

"Buzz off, dickwad; this is between me and her!" Lance growled, just barely glancing in Xander's direction.

"I'm not going anywhere-" Xander abruptly ducked as Lance turned and took a swing at him, before Harris punched Brooks directly in the face and the guy went stumbling back, crashing into a number of people.

"Hold it! Xander, I'll deal with this," Cordelia abruptly took charge of the situation. She got right up in Lance's face and said, "Who the hell do you think you are, mister? Like, where do you get off thinking that YOU can threaten ME? My father owns the company you work for, remember? Lance, if you don't get lost right now, I'll tell him to fire your ass first thing Monday morning! And if you ever hassle me or Xander again, I'll see to it that NO ONE will hire you in Sunnydale – for the rest of your lousy, miserable life!"

Lance hesitated, seeing the crowd gathered around them. Most of the looks on people's faces were unfriendly, since he had thrown the first punch and he didn't have his jacket on. Silently cursing Cordelia's name, Lance eventually walked away in defeat – his glory days finally at an end, and a dreary future waiting just around the corner for him.

"Wow, Xander, you were so forceful!" Harmony gushed, as she and the other Cordettes gathered around their leader.

"Well, I..." Xander trailed off, not sure what to say.

"Xander, I wanna thank you for the way you defended me just now," Cordelia's eyes seemed to sparkle as she said that.

"Oh, uh, it was nothing, really-"

But that was all Xander managed to say, before Cordelia grabbed him into a scorching, passionate kiss that seemed to last forever – and the gathered crowd all enthusiastically cheered them on.

Just as the former Oracle of Delphi had foreseen during the previous night.

* * *

**1420 Truman Drive, Sunnydale**

**February 14th, 1998**

Willow and Amy were about to do a spell within the Madison girl's bedroom, not long after midnight. Willow had come here after parting company with Buffy outside the Bronze, and enlisted her friend's help to try to figure out what was going on where Xander was concerned.

"So what kind of spell are we doing, exactly?" Willow asked Amy. She didn't have much experience with magic yet, as Jenny had been killed before she could teach the redhead anything beyond the basics.

"Uh, it's a supplication to Hecate for enlightenment," Amy replied, focusing on her witch's brew. "The ritual's fairly standard."

"Have you done lots of spells before now? I mean, I knew your mom was a witch, but until today I, uh, I didn't know the talent ran in the family," Willow confessed shyly, recalling the body-switching incident during sophomore year.

"Well, I've done some animal transmogrification spells," Amy said, straightening up and finally giving Willow her full attention. "And a few other things."

"Right. Uh, I was wondering – have you ever...um...tried any...uh...tantric," Willow stammered, her face going bright red, "rituals, before?"

When Amy looked at her strangely and shook her head, Willow's face turned even redder. It looked like she was about to have an aneurysm as she asked, her voice going up in pitch to a near screech on the last two words, "Well, maybe one day, would you...like to?"

Amy just stared at her friend with shock-widened eyes. ( _Is Willow coming on to me or something?_ ) "I, I'd say we're just about ready to cast the enlightenment spell," Miss Madison said shakily.

"Okay, let's do that," Willow gratefully changed the subject, already regretting being so bold with her fellow practitioner.

The two female teens joined hands and started chanting, with a black candle burning alongside the bubbling solution. When the spell was concluded, the candle flame shot upwards; a swirl of red energy then appeared over the small pail and dived into the mystical brew, causing it to spark and flash.

"Blow out the candle, now!" Amy called to Willow.

She did so; but just as it had always been destined with Miss Rosenberg during the early days of practicing her craft, the spell had unexpected results.

In this case, firstly – Willow and Amy just sat there in the bedroom before concluding the spell had completely bombed, there was no new information that had been magically downloaded into their minds.

Secondly, the green beret of Xander's Special Forces tattoo glowed brightly, fusing the letterman jacket to the young man's skin and rendering him unable to take it off. Xander didn't know that yet, since he was in the middle of listening to Cordelia's plans for becoming a movie star after high school, but he would learn about it soon enough.

Thirdly, Allan Finch started screaming in pain as the Orbs of Nezzla'khan began to burn inside his chest, and Anyanka had to slice him open with a letter opener to get them out – whereupon the pain abruptly ceased, and both human and demon wondered what the hell had just happened.

* * *

**Sunnydale High Library, Sunnydale**

**February 16th, 1998**

Xander was feeling pissed as Giles and Willow left the library to track down Amy, in order to undo the spell the two witches had cast in her bedroom the other night. He hadn't called the members of Team Slayer during the weekend because of their behavior towards him lately, but after hitting the books himself this morning, Harris had eventually acknowledged defeat and spoken to the Scooby Gang concerning his problem.

After hearing that Xander had been unable to take the magic jacket off since Friday, Cordelia had reluctantly confessed how she had 'acquired' it from Lance after Buffy had saved her from Ford a few weeks ago – and, more importantly, what she thought the jacket could do.

( _I shoulda gone straight to Rory and begged him for us to go back to LA, as soon as that thing with the Judge was over,_ ) Xander thought angrily, as he barricaded himself inside Slayer Central. ( _Because not only have I gotten stuck wearing this damn jacket, it's stolen property – and I punched the guy who it actually belongs to_! )

"Hey, Xander? Are you mad at me or something?" Cordelia asked, seeing his expression.

"Mad? Why would I be mad? Just because I haven't been able to take a shower for the past three days, and this morning nearly all the girls in this school wanted to make me their personal cuddle monkey, which may sound swell on paper but in practicality, not so much..." Xander ranted as he finally managed to drag the mobile card catalog in front of the library doors.

"Okay, so I messed up – a little! But hey, I didn't cast that spell on you – Willow and Amy did that!" Cordy attempted to defend herself.

"Right. You just gave me a jacket, which had a fricking LOVE SPELL on it!" Xander shouted, trying and failing to contain his ire. "Almighty Zeus, do you really hate me that much?"

"No, I don't hate you!" Cordelia exclaimed desperately as Xander stalked towards her. "I was just trying to help you!"

"HELP ME?" Xander yelled.

"Yeah, help you become popular enough for me to date. Because I – I think I love you," Cordelia confessed, thanks to the enlightenment spell.

Luckily, though, Cordy didn't admit that ever since Friday night, she'd worn out the batteries on her mom's vibrator thanks to Harris deliberately avoiding her. The Chase girl was effectively immune to the jacket's effects nowadays, but the spell had caused her libido to go into overdrive as well as come to terms with her real feelings.

Xander's eyes bulged out after hearing Cordelia's admission, but then he heard the grinding sound of the card catalog being shoved forward and Buffy stepped in through the library's double doors – wearing nothing but a short black raincoat.

"Hey, Xander," the blonde Slayer purred like a cat in heat, almost stalking her way towards the guy.

"Oh dear God – check out the slut-o-rama look on her," Cordelia said in amazement.

"Summers? Okay...look, if you're thinking what I think you're thinking, right now? It's not real. You're only here because of this jacket, a-and a spell," Xander babbled urgently, whilst backing away carefully.

"A spell? Oh, I don't think so. It's you and me, Xander, we were always meant to be. All those years in LA, I was fixated on Ford and those other boys – but deep down, it was you who I wanted all along," Buffy said in that same purring tone. "It just took me all this time to finally realize it."

"Okay, she's totally lost it. We gotta get outta here!" Cordelia whispered into Xander's ear. Not only had the Slayer's play for Xander's heart caused Cordy's already-intense dislike for Buffy to skyrocket, she didn't want to take any chances that Harris would throw himself into the nutcase's arms and say he felt the same way.

"Don't worry, Xander, I'll take REAL good care of you from now on," Buffy said seductively, grabbing her raincoat belt in order to untie it.

"Summers, for the love of all things good and holy, don't open that raincoat!" Xander pleaded with her as Cordelia pulled him backwards.

"Why not? It's long past time, and you'll be safe with me. I won't let anything happen to you, 'cause it's my job to protect you. I won't let that Green Fire thingy happen to you, for starters," Buffy said, advancing slowly.

"What Green Fire thingy?" Cordelia demanded immediately.

"Oh, just something that Giles said would happen sooner or later; I dunno, Xander's supposed to go nuts and destroy Sunnydale or something, that whole Avon calling-slash-avant garde thing," Buffy said. The spell and the jacket's combined effects had truly dulled her mental faculties, as the Chosen One carelessly spilled the news concerning the avatars of the four elements.

"WHAT?" Xander exploded in disbelief before Cordelia yanked him towards the exit in the stacks.

"You're abandoning me for HER?" Buffy suddenly lost the seductive look as she saw Xander willingly go with Cordelia. "Of all the – you two-timing BASTARD!"

The seer and former soldier ran for their lives, with a suddenly-livid Slayer chasing after them. Buffy wasn't alone for long, as an angry mob of females began chasing after the fugitives as well – determined to mate with their Xander-shaped obsession, or else kill him trying.

A few hours later, sunset had fallen – and the two teenagers were still on the run, trying to reach the relative safety of the Chase mansion with that mob on their trail.

"I think we've lost them," Cordelia said uncertainly as they finally made it to Parkview Crescent.

"No, we haven't! What the hell is taking Willow, Giles and that Amy girl so long..." Xander grunted, spying the mob not far away. "Come on, run!"

There was no chance of making it to Cordelia's house, so the pair ran down a side street and attempted to ditch their pursuers. But as luck would have it, they ran into an old 'friend' who had started looking for Xander as soon as the sun had gone down.

Darla.

"Be my valentine!" the vampiress howled at her obsession, seemingly ignoring Cordelia.

Xander stammered, wide-eyed, as he tried to back away, "Um...okay...sure...uh...sweetheart?"

"I give you my heart," Darla told him, her yellow eyes gleaming.

"Only in the literal sense, I hope," Xander mumbled as he edged away cautiously, pulling Cordy along with him.

"What the hell is her deal?" Cordelia asked. She simply couldn't accept that the spell and/or the jacket had made women from the undead side of the street go nuts, as well.

"To hell with that idiot Jesse – I've finally found a true replacement for Angelus! How do you feel about eternal life, my love?" Darla asked Harris excitedly.

"You're gonna turn Xander into a vampire? Ewww!" Cordelia said unthinkingly.

Darla snarled at her, going into her demon face. But then Ford showed up and said, "Darla? What's going on?" He had followed the new boss after hearing her muttering about Xander back at the mansion.

"Go away! This is personal," Darla growled at her minion. "No, better yet – kill that insipid little fool at once!"

"You want me to kill Xander?" Ford asked in astonishment.

"Not HIM! Cordelia!" Darla shouted impatiently.

"Oh, right! No problem," Ford smiled and came forward.

"You so much as touch Cordy, Ford, and I'll shove a stake up your ass before I dust you," Xander told him warningly, pushing Cordelia behind him. "The only way you're getting to her is over my dead body!"

"Don't hurt him! Just kill her!" Darla shouted again. She could have easily done the job herself much quicker, true, but then her lust-clouded mind wasn't firing on all cylinders right now.

Ford did not hesitate; between Collin's torture and Buffy's revelation that Xander hated him nowadays, there was no way he was going to disobey Darla's orders. He charged forward, and the obligatory ferocious fight took place.

"Buddy, where the hell did you learn to do that?" Ford demanded, only just avoiding Xander's double fisted strike to the head.

"Fort Bragg, sorta," Xander replied as his former best friend's next attack got through his defences and winded him badly.

Shoving Xander aside, Fordham reached for his prey – but with perfect timing, Cordelia's foot impacted upon his groin, lifting him up at least two inches off the ground and making the soulless vampire whine and curl up into a fetal ball, after Ford crashed back down to earth.

"You IDIOT!" Darla cursed, almost foaming at the mouth.

"Ohhhh, that's gotta hurt," Xander winced in sympathetic pain.

"Well, he SO had it coming!" Cordy replied, just as the mob of crazed females showed up and distracted Darla with their presence.

Grabbing Cordelia's hand, Xander made his way to the nearest house after seeing the front door opening up – the occupant had chosen the worst possible time to take out the trash. The two teens barged inside, the invitation barrier keeping Darla out but not the human mob, and they subsequently tried to barricade themselves in the basement as the homeowner was knocked out cold by the tidal wave of humanity pouring into his house.

Luckily, the spell was ended by Willow and Amy just in the nick of time – and as Xander gratefully took off the enchanted jacket for the first time in three days, Cordelia babbled something about 'a really exciting scavenger hunt'.

* * *

**Sunnydale High Corridor, Sunnydale**

**February 17th, 1998**

"Scavenger hunt?" Willow said to Xander in surprise as they walked along. "And, and everyone actually bought that?"

"Why not? This is the Hellmouth," Xander grimaced. "Denial City, in all its glory."

"Listen, Xander – I, I'm really sorry about the spell and all," Willow apologized for her actions yet again. "I swear, I didn't mean for any of that to happen! I was just worried that-"

"That something was up with me. I get it, there's no such thing as being overly paranoid around here," Harris cut her off. "So, as far as I'm concerned, we're cool. No harm, no foul 'n all that."

"Really?" Willow said uncertainly.

"Yeah, and ditto for that Amy girl. Just do me a favor, and give this back to Cordelia," Xander handed the redhead a bag containing Lance's jacket. "Tell her to burn it, or throw it into the sea, or whatever. I don't care, as long as no one ever wears it again."

"Okay," Willow said obediently, not knowing that Cordelia had just had a vision of this conversation – and the beauty queen was wondering if she'd totally screwed things up and lost Xander forever, now that he was back to being the most invisible student on campus.

Not that she was going to destroy the letterman jacket after spending two hundred bucks on it, of course. Cordelia was fairly confident that Amy could discover a way to strip the magic away from the enchanted item, and make the jacket harmless. The Chase girl only prayed she could somehow make Xander believe that her declarations of love had been the real deal, because she knew the odds were that he'd start avoiding her like the plague now.

Xander made his way alone to the library, where he suspected Buffy would be. And sure enough, there she was; looking hunched over and miserable. The young man said, "You oughta turn that frown upside down, Summers. Things aren't that bad this morning, are they?"

"Xander!" Buffy leapt up off her chair as she began to apologize, "Look, about what happened yesterday – everything I did, everything I SAID-"

"Hold it! Like I said to Willow, Summers, no harm means no foul. And as far as I'm concerned, we can live out the rest of our lives without ever mentioning any of that again," Xander said firmly.

"Really?"

"Good Godfrey Cambridge, yeah," Xander nodded resolutely. "And I'm talking never, ever again!"

He didn't appear to notice the odd look on Buffy's face; a mix of relief and disappointment, as the blonde girl hadn't been able to help wondering if her former childhood friend might be interested in giving 'them' a chance. As well as thinking some major grovelling had definitely been in order to make up for chasing Xander around town, and threatening him at the top of her lungs like that.

"Okay," Buffy said, deciding to head out and clear her head a little. "I'll, uh, see you later then."

"Yeah, I guess so," Xander nodded, waiting until she'd gone before heading up into the stacks to find Giles.

"Ah, Mr. Harris – err, Xander," Giles corrected himself, as soon as he saw the student.

"G-dawg," Xander said in reply, knowing the librarian hated that nickname even worse than 'G-man'.

"What can I do for you?" Rupert asked with forced patience, his voice filled with a deep annoyance over that deplorable nickname.

"Well, I've been thinking ever since last night. And it's occurred to me that I'm not here to be a normal high school student; if I was, I'd still be at Hemery right now. I'm here to do the job the PTBs need me to do," Xander said in a steady tone of voice.

"Yes; I-I suppose that's a, a fairly accurate assessment of the situation," Giles said warily.

"So that's why I want you to spill everything you've been hiding from me lately. Like this Green Fire thing, which Summers mentioned in passing yesterday," Xander's voice abruptly turned as cold as ice.

Rupert Giles, scholar and Watcher to the Slayer, stared at a young man he suspected would soon be called upon to burn down all of Sunnydale – which caused his heart to be filled with trepidation, anxiety and even genuine worry.

TBC...


	15. On The Eve Of Destruction

See Part One for Disclaimer and details. Howdy all, and welcome to the latest chapter! Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed the story so far, I couldn't have made it here to this point without you. The thing is, though - the end of this story is drawing near, there's just a few more chapters to go. Sorry, but for those people who asked about the season 2 episodes beyond February 1998, I'm not going to be going there. I'll be building up to the big finale from everything that's come to pass so far, and I hope you'll enjoy the ride...

* * *

**Part Fifteen: On The Eve Of Destruction**

**High above Crawford Street, Sunnydale**

**February 19th, 1998**

The people in the helicopter watched as a car burst out of the mansion's garage and tore off down the street. Ford was making a break for it and heading back to LA, having come to the conclusion that it was too dangerous for him to remain in Sunnydale any longer; mostly because Darla was no longer someone it was safe for him to be around.

In a perfect world, of course, Ford would have been dusted by Xander or Buffy or somebody else by this point. But then, it wasn't a perfect world by any means; sometimes the bad guys get away with their crimes, despite all the efforts of the good guys to stop them.

To borrow a phrase, shit happens.

In any case, it had been three nights since the Valentine's Day fiasco, and the white hats had learned where Darla's new lair was based. After shaking off the effects of both Willow's spell and the enchanted jacket, Buffy had followed a cursing Darla home and subsequently told Giles where the nest was located.

And since there was no need to fear retribution upon his Slayer for inadvertently unleashing a soulless monster, Giles had contacted his superiors to send a wet works team for an all-out assault – to slaughter Darla and her minions once and for all.

Giles stared at the fleeing car below, before looking back at Buffy. "Do you think that may have been Darla?" he shouted over the roar of the engine and the rotor blades.

"I dunno, but I doubt it!" Buffy yelled back. "She's not the type to cut and run like that!"

Giles nodded and spoke to the specialist team members; Smith, Collins and Weatherby. "We proceed with the mission!"

The trio of British men nodded, since they hadn't expected anything else. All three could tell that Giles was almost itching with eagerness to destroy the vampires below them. They didn't know that this was mostly because Giles had never recovered Jenny's body in order to give her and their unborn child a decent funeral – the gypsy woman's remains had, in fact, been thrown into an unmarked grave by Allan Finch's forces and quickly forgotten – but Smith, Collins and Weatherby could sense that this was personal for Rupert.

"We're in position!" the pilot called out from the cockpit.

"Buffy, are you ready?" Giles shouted to his charge.

The Slayer checked her harness, and the load of gear she was carrying. "Yeah!"

Giles nodded to the wet works team members. "GO!"

Smith, Collins and Weatherby rappelled out of the stationary helicopter first, leaving Giles and Buffy to follow them afterwards. The Watcher had taught his Slayer the rudiments of what to do, but nonetheless, he kept a close eye on the Summers girl as they plunged down into the darkness of the night.

( _HOLY CRAP!_ ) Buffy thought wildly, as she headed down towards the roof of the mansion at high speed. Like really good sex, the ride was a mix of fear, joy, anxiety and adrenaline, all the sensations mixed together so completely that it was impossible to separate one from the other. ( _I have GOT to do this again sometime soon!_ )

Soon enough, the team landed on the roof, disconnected the ropes and let the Council chopper ascend to a safer height. The pilot knew his part of the mission was over, and so offered a quick prayer for the five souls who even now were making their way into the mansion to kill every vampire in it.

As has been said, Darla's lair had a good view of the immediate terrain in all directions; but the funny thing about vampires is that they rarely looked up, and this had been the only way to approach the nest without someone spotting the good guys coming from almost a mile away. Thus Smith, Collins, Weatherby, Giles and Buffy entered the lair from above and began to place explosives at key points.

Not long afterwards, several explosions took place and the Crawford Street mansion started burning down to the ground. The screams of the undead were barely even heard by the distant neighbors, who all switched off their lights and bolted the doors before the fire department showed up to prevent the blaze from spreading anywhere else.

Within the shadows, Rupert Giles stared at the burning wreck with only partial satisfaction. Almost all the vampires had been wiped out, either by the fire or the weapons of Team Slayer; but the true target – Darla – had somehow managed to escape once again.

* * *

**City Hall, Sunnydale**

**Not long before midnight**

Mayor Allan Finch was watching Anyanka carefully, as she started doing some sort of arcane ritual in his office.

Allan was holding the Orbs of Nezzla'khan in his hands, having removed them from the belt pouch which he used to carry them around these days. Ever since the moment Willow and Amy had done their spell, Finch had known that it wasn't safe for him to keep them within his chest anymore. He didn't know why the Orbs had hurt him as a consequence of the enlightenment spell which the two witches had cast, so better safe than sorry.

Anyanka had gotten very upset over what had happened, though. Even if the injury inflicted by that letter opener had healed without trace almost instantly, the mad woman had seen it as a bad omen of some sort. She was so concerned that, after consulting with Rack, Anyanka had come up with a scheme to make sure that the Orbs didn't ever do anything like that to her savior again.

"So, this Urn of Osiris – you really found it in Cairo?" Allan asked, examining the small clay vase.

"Oooh, this desert gnome? That ornery little critter said he could get a much better price from a Chaos demon. But yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum, I fixed his little red wagon!" Anyanka said feverishly, her eyes flicking back and forth. "Vino de madre..."

"What's that?"

"Fawn blood, plus a few extra ingredients. Oh, I'm glad it's not evil, insane rabbit blood I'm handling! Light the candles, Allan, QUICKLY!" the vengeance demon then commanded loudly. "It's almost midnight!"

Despite his misgivings, Allan obeyed her orders. Anyanka poured the vino de madre into the urn and began to chant in ancient Egyptian, / _**Osiris, keeper of the gate, master of all fate, hear my prayer. Before time, and after, your blessings were upon us. Sanctify these orbs now with your knowledge and wisdom! Grant them the power of healing, as well as invulnerability!**_ /

The candle flames all shot up high, as a small earthquake started. "Dunk the Orbs into the Urn!" Anyanka commanded again.

"Is that really-" Allan started to say.

"NOW!" Anyanka morphed into her demon face. "HURRY!"

Grimacing, Allan stuck his hand into the Urn, submerging the Orbs within the sticky bloody liquid. A few moments, the quake ceased and Anyanka sighed in relief. "That's enough! You can take them out now!"

Allan gratefully withdrew the Orbs, and noted with some astonishment that there wasn't a trace of blood on them – the two small balls fused together were spotlessly clean, the only vino de madre visible was on his hand. "Strange..."

Then Allan did a double-take, looking around. "Who said that?"

"Who said what, now?" Anyanka replied in confusion.

Allan's eyes went wide as he stared at the Orbs. "The Orbs, they're...they're talking to me. All right, that's enough!" he said roughly, bringing the red glass balls up to eye level. "I don't know for sure what's going on yet, so be quiet for now!" Finch then stared at his subordinate, "Anya, what have you done?"

The so-called 'justice' demon opened her mouth to reply, but the next moment, Darla burst into the office. Allan was surprised to see her, but for some reason Anyanka wasn't – even though the evil undead shouldn't have known where to find her.

"We KNOCK before interrupting the aftermath of dark rituals!" Anyanka shouted out to the vampiress in annoyance.

"The hell with that," Darla growled, taking note of the Orbs Allan placed back in his belt pouch as she glared at the current Mayor of Sunnydale.

"Do I know you? And do you have an appointment?" Allan asked blandly, wondering what Darla wanted.

"Let's cut the crap, Mr. Mayor, we both know who the other is. And as for the second question, I don't need an appointment – I'm a constituent. One who's registering a complaint," Darla growled, her game face clearly visible.

Allan gestured with his red right hand, "Go on." He listened as Darla subsequently explained how her mansion had just been burned to the ground, leaving the vampire queen as the only survivor. "Well, it seems to me you've had a bit of bad luck lately..."

"Bad luck? Feeding on that damn fool gypsy girl a hundred years ago and getting cursed with a soul, that was bad luck. Losing my home and my minions, not to mention that damned love spell a few days ago – well, if it wasn't for those drugs you supply me with, I'd have slaughtered you by now for allowing that to happen!" Darla roared.

"Are you still lusting after that Xander Harris guy?" Anyanka asked abruptly. "I mean, if you are, don't you just wish..."

"Shut up. I don't need one of your vengeance wishes to kill that – that odious little toad, or that damned Slayer of his!" Darla snarled.

"Don't worry, Darla – and yes, I DO know who you are, and that you've been indirectly working for me for the last month or so," Finch said with a sincere-looking politician's smile. "I take care of my employees, and so I promise you that Mr. Harris and his friends will be dealt with soon."

* * *

**Shadow Valley Vineyard, Sunnydale**

**February 21st, 1998**

( _This is SO not how I wanted to spend my Saturday night,_ ) Cordelia thought to herself, as she led Buffy along the deserted vineyard cellar. ( _Goddamn stupid visions..._ )

"Are we there yet?" Buffy whispered, wondering yet again why she had followed Miss Chase here of all places. Ever since that day in the library with the raincoat, things had been even more strained than usual between these two, thanks to their feelings concerning Xander.

"Shhh!" Cordy hissed back, not wanting any security guards to hear them. She led Buffy to one of the rear corners of the basement, close to a bunch of wine barrels. "Here."

"There's nothing there!" Buffy whispered in annoyance.

"Underneath. There's a cave or something; you just have to punch a hole through the floor," Cordelia said as quietly as she could, struggling to contain her own annoyance.

"I want you to know, I'm taking a LOT on faith here!" Buffy replied with sheer exasperation. The Chosen One moved some of the wine barrels to act as a noise muffler, and then punched the floor as hard as she could. Half-expecting to hit nothing but solid earth, Buffy's fist disappeared down into the dark empty air as the wooden floor snapped under the force of her strike.

"QUIETLY!" Cordelia semi-growled at her companion.

Looking like she wanted to kill the brunette, Buffy nonetheless swallowed her angry reply and started to enlarge the hole. Soon, it was big enough for them to slide down through. "Rope. Flashlight," the Slayer whispered to Cordelia, who handed them over.

Buffy attached the rope – the same one she'd used to rappel down from that helicopter, which she'd kept as a souvenir – to the wine barrels and lowered herself down into the underground chamber. Cordelia quickly followed her. Miss Chase then took out a luminescent flare and activated it, bathing the chamber in a dim yellow light as both girls retired their flashlights.

Buffy's eyes were immediately drawn to the black rock in the middle of the chamber. There was a shiny weapon of some sort embedded into it; something with a wide, rounded blade on one end, and a pointy wooden pole at the other end. Buffy stared at it in awe, before she smiled. "Oh, me like..."

"What is that thing?" Cordelia asked, then her eyes went wide as Buffy easily King Arthur'ed the artifact out of the stone.

"It looks like a scythe," Buffy said slowly, feeling the weapon almost hum in her hands as she examined the wooden stake end of the thing.

"Looks more like an axe to me. Hey, what are you doing?" Cordelia demanded, as Buffy came up into her face.

"Cordelia, how did you know it was here? And don't try to give me some crappy cover story! This thing belongs to me – somehow I know it, I can FEEL it. And you knew it was here – well, all right, maybe not THIS exactly, but ya knew SOMETHING was here from the way you Pied Piper'd me straight to it. So start talking. The truth, the whole truth and nothing but – or else, you won't like the consequences," Buffy said warningly.

Cordelia exhaled. She'd known that it would most likely come to this after her vision last night, where the two of them – and no one else – broke into the vineyard and disappeared into this underground cave. So she confessed everything.

"You're a seer?" Buffy obviously couldn't believe it. "YOU get visions?"

"Yeah, I do. You got a problem with that?" Cordelia said challengingly.

"You're a Vision Girl?" Buffy didn't seem able to get past that concept very easily.

"YES! How many times do I have to say it, you bottle-blond idiot? These days, I'm just as much of a freak as you are," Cordy hissed angrily.

Buffy shook her head, ignoring the insult. "And Xander is the only one who knows, apart from me?"

"You even think of trying to spread it around the school, and I will destroy you," Cordelia promised her darkly, misreading Buffy's intentions.

"How? You're on the outs now with all your popular friends, in case you didn't notice," Buffy pointed out, enjoying herself a bit too much. "What was it they accused you of? Dabbling with the riff-raff?"

"Xander isn't riff-raff, and you damn well know it," Cordelia retorted, and with a mental shrug, Buffy gave her that one. "Newsflash, but he's so special that I dream about him almost every night. Our senior Prom, our engagement party, even our fifty-year wedding anniversary. I'm Cordelia Chase; when I make up my mind that I want something, I go after it and get it!"

"And you want Xander," Buffy couldn't help the small growl in her voice.

"Don't you?" Miss Chase demanded, which caused the Slayer to look away. "Y'know, Buffy, I always thought you were a lot of things, but I never thought 'poacher' was one of them – well, until now."

In an instant, Buffy was back in her old Hemery 'Queen B' persona. "Poacher? In case you didn't notice, I was the one who was there first – Xander and I grew up together, I was his first kiss when we were six-"

"And then a decade or so later, you and your friends humiliated the guy so badly that it took YEARS for Xander to ask someone out on a date again," Cordelia interrupted with a hooded look, conveniently overlooking everything related to Halloween. "Y'know, it's going to take a long time for that boy to completely get over what you and those bitches did to him in that school cafeteria – oh yeah, Xander told me about that – but I figure he's worth the wait for me. Is he worth the wait for you?"

Buffy was tempted to tell Cordelia 'hell, yes!', but a sound from the basement up above quickly silenced her. Hefting her new personal sidearm, Buffy led the way back to the rope and the two girls quickly climbed up, making a hasty exit from the depths of the vineyard.

* * *

**1324 Deveraux Avenue, Sunnydale**

**Earlier that night**

"Hello. Welcome! My, my, you ladies look lovely this evening," Rory said appreciatively. It was that time of the month, and so half a dozen whores were entering the Harris residence after Xander had made himself scarce.

One of the hookers, however, was not what she seemed.

"Hi, I'm new in Sunnydale. I'm not sure if this is the place I'm supposed to be?" Darla said, dressed as an inexpensive prostitute. Her outfit was even trashier than the one Cordelia had worn that night when the rocket launcher had been stolen, but it emphasized all the right portions of her anatomy, and it was no problem for Darla to now pretend to be what she had actually been as a mortal.

Rory whistled, admiring her beauty. "Little lady, where have you been all my life?"

"Here and there," Darla said, as the last of the other women entered the house. "Well, I'm not coming in unless you invite me."

Rory gestured with his arm, but refrained from issuing a formal invitation; he had lived in Sunnydale long enough to know that, even if his nephew hadn't warned him to never directly invite anyone into the house. That just made Darla mad, though.

"Oww!" the evil vampiress cried in fake distress, clutching her stomach and bending over as if in pain.

It was a stupid mistake, but Rory leaned forward beyond the threshold in concern. "Are you okay?"

Quick as a flash, Darla was in game face and had her hand wrapped around Rory's throat. "Invite me in. Or I'll kill you very slowly and painfully, right now!"

The female vampire then released the taxidermist's throat enough for him to say the words, and quickly slammed the door behind her as she dragged her soon-to-be victim inside.

* * *

**Restfield Cemetery, Sunnydale**

**A while later**

Xander Harris was a very confused young man these days.

Giles's revelations about becoming the avatar for the element of Green Fire had been thoroughly shocking.

Make that utterly mind-blowing.

Never in his wildest dreams had Xander considered anything like that possible. He also hated the idea of becoming a cosmic destroyer like that. The young man understood the concept of 'acceptable losses' from his Halloween memories, but that was in combat during war time – and he didn't want to kill forty thousand civilians for some nebulous, as-yet-undefined threat.

Those shouted accusations of Soldier Guy being a mass murderer, amongst other, less pleasant things, had never been fully repressed in Xander's mind.

So, he had tried to seek out answers since Giles had told him the truth. Harris had returned to that holy location in the southern California desert he'd gone to when he'd been kidnapped by his car in LA, but there had been nothing there for him. He'd gone to a few other places as well, despite being distracted by Cordelia on occasion.

To be honest, Xander still wasn't sure what to do about that girl. She was tactless, vain and an incredibly self-centered princess; but Cordelia had chosen him when it had come down to a choice between Xander Harris and popularity, despite all the damage that had done to her social position. And while he was still kinda mad about that business concerning the magic jacket, Xander also had to admit that those feelings were now starting to fade.

Plus, there was no denying Cordelia was smart, beautiful, rich, and for some insane reason, genuinely interested in him.

( _I wonder if she's had any visions of us ending up together that way?_ ) Xander asked himself as he walked through the graveyard, clutching his cross and stake firmly. ( _'Cause that's the only reason I can think of why a girl like her would be into a guy like me..._ )

Xander's thoughts were suddenly distracted by the sight of Jesse McNally's recent grave marker. His parents had finally given up after nearly a month of no news concerning their son, and started mourning his loss. Fortunately for their sanity, they didn't know how Jesse's ashes had been buried beneath the plaque in the grass by Willow, Buffy and Giles.

( _So many dead people,_ ) Xander shook his head as he walked. ( _Every single night, there are so many 'wild animal attacks' around here. Hell, maybe everyone would be better off if this whole stinking town got itself wiped off the map – oh, shit, no, don't go there! You KNOW where that's gonna lead, buddy boy!_ )

Finally, Xander made it to his destination for tonight; the graves for Tony and Jessica Harris. But just as he arrived there, a familiar male voice said, "I'm afraid you're wasting your time, kid. Your mom can't help you anymore; sad to say, but that door's been closed to you for good."

"Whistler-?" Xander spun around, recognizing the thick Queens accent. "Where have you been? Damn it, I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"I know, kid. I know. But I'm afraid you were wasting your time doing that, too. Sorry, but no one can help you avoid you-know-what."

"Why? Why me?" Xander demanded, knowing that Whistler was talking about him becoming an avatar for the element of Green Fire. "If you and your bosses want this hellhole destroyed, why do _I_ have to be the one to do the dirty work?"

"Listen up, kid, 'cause I don't have much time to tell you what little I know," Whistler exhaled. "Now the PTBs wanted you back in Sunnydale to deal with the Judge, because as you mighta guessed by now – your original destiny was to be the Halloween soldier and retain the military knowledge, afterwards. I mean, if you HADN'T been here, no one would have come up with that idea concerning the rocket launcher, and Big Blue would have eventually killed every human being on the planet."

"That's why I was sent to Sunnydale?" Xander demanded, feeling no pleasure from having his suspicions confirmed.

"Yep. THAT is why the Powers messed with your life, why they sent me and the ghost mom to get you ready for the job – plus, killing that Halfrek broad to end the Wish curse you were under, ever since your third birthday," Whistler replied.

"Halfrek," Xander said, recalling that conversation with Jessica's ghost.

"Demon girl who cursed you, way back when. And she had a friend, one who's become a major player around here over the past two months. Okay, wait for it – three, two, one..." Whistler counted down slowly.

Right on cue, the Special Forces tattoo glowed green yet again. Xander then groaned in pain, clutching his head, "AGGH! Nuh, uggh, make it STOP!"

"Sorry, kid, no can do," Whistler apologized. "You know, it definitely wasn't supposed to be like this. I figure on this one, the Powers That Be really are making it up as they go along."

"WHAT?" Xander shouted, still hearing the name 'Anyanka' echoing in his brain.

"Thing is, you're no Slayer – no Champion of any sort. You're pretty much just a faceless blip on the Powers' radar. That's why they were expecting for you to die at the Sunnydale Mall that night. But since you managed to live thanks to that hottie's vision powers, which showed up thanks to that Halloween chaos magic – making it something the PTBs couldn't see coming – you were given another job. The Green Fire avatar."

"WHAT?" Xander shouted again, he couldn't hear the balance demon due to the terrible noise in his head.

Whistler yanked Xander's hands away from his ears. "Your uncle is about to get killed by my former protégé – Darla. Him and all those call girls who are trapped in your house."

Xander's eyes went wide, and despite the pain in his head he took off running.

* * *

**1324 Deveraux Avenue, Sunnydale**

**Later that night**

The pain and noise in his head had abated by the time Xander arrived home, mostly anyway. He quickly burst through the door – only to find the house littered with corpses.

Horrified, Xander checked the bodies – and at once, he noticed something odd. There were no vampire bite marks; instead there were either broken necks, like in the case of Rory Harris, or stab wounds to the heart in the cases of the five prostitutes. "What the hell-?"

"It took you long enough to get here!"

Xander looked up to see Darla standing there, smiling. He rose from the floor, growling in fury, "You fucking undead bitch..."

"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh wait, I forgot – she's dead. Just like all the rest of your family, apart from your father," Darla said merrily. "Sluggoth demon, wasn't it?"

"I'm gonna piss all over your ashes after you're dust, you goddamn ANIMAL! Just like I did with McNally's," Xander flung out the lie, advancing forward with his cross and stake.

Darla's smile remained unfazed, as big and bright as the new day. "Is that so? Well, I'm afraid there's something you've yet to realize, dear boy."

"What's that?"

"You're not the hunter here. You're the sacrificial goat," Darla said, appearing to relish every moment of her speech.

"What-"

"HELP! HELP! HE'S GONE CRAZY! HE'S KILLED EVERYONE!" Darla suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs, certainly loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

"What the hell are you-" Xander started to say, not getting it.

"POLICE! DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" a loud male voice thundered out as two uniform policemen and the balding Sunnydale P.D. detective named Jack Stein burst into the house.

"No, I didn't-" Xander tried to explain, turning to face the cops who had shown up here just a little TOO conveniently.

The set-up became obvious when, with no further warning, Detective Stein opened fire. Xander's body became riddled with various bloody bullet holes, as he collapsed to the ground and the wooden stake rolled out of his hand.

Darla smiled, as she heard Xander's heartbeat disappear with her supernaturally acute hearing. She then freely admitted that Allan Finch's idea to not only kill Xander, but also destroy his reputation at the same time, had had a great deal more merit to it than she'd initially supposed.

Too bad for Darla that she couldn't see the Special Forces tattoo glow green at the moment of death; nor did she know how – just as with every avatar of the four elements – death was most definitely NOT the end...

TBC...


	16. Destiny

See Part One for Disclaimer and details. Hello, all! Welcome to the second last chapter of the story. I just want to once again thank everyone who has read and reviewed this fanfic up until now, your feedback has been truly incredible. Especially yours, Anne, thank you for your kind words. I did get some emails from a few angry readers, who were apparently pissed that I killed off Xander – however temporarily – but even this feedback I treasure. Now, even if it may seem like the end after this chapter's done, trust me – there's still one more chapter to go, the final twist is still yet to come...so please, review!

* * *

**Part Sixteen: Destiny**

**Sunnydale High Library, Sunnydale**

**February 22nd, 1998**

Despite the fact that it was early Sunday morning, Willow and Giles were present in the library examining the Scythe and listening to Buffy's tale of how she'd acquired it.

"CORDELIA has mystical visions now?" Willow asked with wide-eyed wonder.

"Yeah, I heard it straight from the horse's mouth. And apparently, she told Xander about it way back when she had a vision about those Bozo demon eggs," Buffy shrugged.

"Bezoar demon," Giles corrected her automatically, even though he was feeling like a complete and utter fool from the cheerleader bamboozling him about all that. "To think, she kept those abilities she'd been endowed with during Halloween – but, but why the devil didn't the girl say anything to us about it before now?"

Buffy and Willow stared at each other for a moment, and then gave the Watcher a pitying look. Willow said it for both of them, "Giles? It's Cordelia we're talking about. The only reason she even comes here to the library is for us to help her, whenever something's out to kill her!"

"And to keep Xander company," Buffy added, with a tight little knot of jealousy ruthlessly suppressed in her heart.

"Well, that's a given," Willow shrugged. "Ever since Valentine's Day, though-"

"Err, as fascinating as this discussion may be, I-I think we should focus on the weapon Buffy found at the vineyard last night," Giles interrupted, he did not want to hear anything more about the personal lives of his teenage acquaintances.

"Right. Will, you do the voodoo with the computer that you do so well, and Giles – well, y'know, dig out your books and look stuff up," Buffy told the others, as she grabbed the Scythe again. "Man, I wish you guys could feel it. It's so old, and strong, and it feels like...like it's mine. Like I could slay an army of vamps with it, and not even break a sweat."

"So it's true? Scythe matters?" Willow asked with a giggle, as she sat down and started her Internet search.

"Yes, very droll," Giles said drily, opening up one of his ancient volumes. "And I'd just like to point out the design of the Scythe, i-i-it's really quite ingenious. But if it IS some sort of traditional Slayer weapon, I can't imagine how something like that could exist without my ever having heard of it."

"Because we did not want your kind to know of it."

Buffy whirled around to see an old woman with long white hair standing at the library doors. "Who the hell are you?"

"One of many. Well – time was. Now, I'm alone in the world. I see you've found our weapon," the old woman nodded towards the Scythe Buffy was holding, as she approached the Chosen One.

The Slayer instinctively turned to her Watcher, but then she saw how Willow and Giles were frozen solid. Buffy whirled back to face the old woman and raised the Scythe warningly, "What did you do to them?"

"Don't worry, they're fine. I just wanted this conversation to remain private," the old woman said with a soft smile. "You were the one who pulled the Scythe out of the rock. I was one of those who put it in there."

"So, what, you want it back?" Buffy asked, automatically gripping the weapon tighter. "Okay, that's it. Who ARE you? And lose the cryptic act, lady, 'cause I'm really not in the mood for it right now!"

"I'm sorry if I've offended you. As for who I am, I'm the last of the Guardians. Women whose job it's been to help you and your sister Slayers, in secret," the Guardian said sincerely. "We forged the Scythe long ago, in the land now called Egypt. Then it was put to use here, on the Hellmouth...to kill the last pure demon that walked the Earth. The rest had already been driven asunder. And ever since the last of the Old Ones was vanquished, the Scythe remained hidden.

"Waiting for the right time and the right Slayer to find it, when the end was near."

"End was near? Ohhh, I'm not liking the sound of that," Buffy frowned, even though she was amazed by the tale she'd just been told. "Look, undo whatever whammy you did on Giles and Willow, I want their input on this-"

"They may be your friends, but they're also a crutch you do not need," the Guardian gestured towards the frozen pair. "And you should heed my advice – beware of trusting the Watcher too much. He's a decent specimen of his breed, true, but his first loyalty is to his Council; not to you. I suspect he'll inflict the Cruciamentum on you when you're eighteen years old, despite his reservations to the contrary."

"Crucia-whatsit?" Buffy asked in confusion. She then listened as the Guardian explained about the perverted rite of passage the Watchers put the Slayer through when she became officially old enough to think for herself, and the blonde Chosen One immediately felt sick. "That's not – Giles would never do something like that!"

"Perhaps, perhaps not," the Guardian shrugged. "Either way, it doesn't matter now. Like I said, the end of the world is nigh if your seer friend was able to guide you to where the Scythe was hidden. It's a last chance for you to beat back the coming darkness, you see."

"What coming darkness?" Buffy demanded. Upon hearing nothing but silence, the Slayer exploded, "Geez, but I really HATE that whole vague 'prophecy of doom' malarkey! Just for once – can't someone like you simply give me a time and a place and the name of the Big Bad, God damn it?"

"I'm sorry. But all I can say is good luck," the Guardian smiled painfully, before she vanished without a trace and Willow and Giles woke up.

"Buffy? How did you get all the way over there?" Willow asked in confusion since, for her and Giles, literally no time had passed.

Buffy didn't answer her, instead she turned to face her Watcher. "Giles, tell me about this crucia-mumbo jumbo thing! It's something to do with stripping me of my powers when I'm eighteen, and locking me up with some vampire...?"

( _The Cruciamentum? Where the devil did Buffy hear about that?_ ) Giles thought, aghast, as his Slayer started glaring at him upon seeing the expression on his face.

* * *

**City Morgue, Sunnydale**

**The same time**

"Get away from him!" Cordelia growled, pushing away the morgue attendant as she stormed into the room. She had heard on the TV what had happened to Xander last night, unlike Buffy, Willow and Giles, and had rushed over here straightaway.

"Hey, miss, you're not allowed in here!" the man protested, keeping a hold on the metal table where Xander's shrouded body lay.

"And he shouldn't be here, got that?" Cordelia yelled, not caring if she sounded like a crazy person or not. "He wasn't supposed to die like this! I mean...he wasn't..." the seer trailed off, as the tears started to splash down her cheeks.

"I need...I need to..." Cordelia tried to form a coherent sentence, but she was so upset her mouth didn't seem to be in synch with her brain any longer. All of her teenage hopes and dreams had just been shattered, after all.

The morgue worker nodded, understanding what she was trying to say. "Okay, miss. I'll give you a few minutes – but I'm sorry, the body is almost due for-" he faltered when he saw Cordelia's sharp glare.

"I mean, the coroner needs to examine him to sign off on the paperwork," the man said after an awkward silence. Then he reluctantly walked away, to give the grieving Chase girl some privacy.

When she was finally alone, Cordelia managed to work up the nerve to remove the sheet. She stared at Xander's still face and at his motionless chest where so much blood and so many bullet holes now lay.

"Please, Xander. You, you can't be dead," she whispered, touching his cheek tentatively.

It was ice cold.

Cordelia closed her eyes, her entire body trembling. ( _This is not happening,_ ) she thought to herself in numb horror. ( _It can't be happening. Except it is, isn't it? Xander's dead, and they're saying he's a killer as well – a mass murderer. My God, what the hell really happened last night?_ )

Something within her soul suddenly flared angrily, and the Chase girl quickly departed the morgue. She had an appointment to keep with Detective Stein at the Sunnydale P.D. headquarters, and a warning to deliver.

Namely, she was calling the FBI to investigate what had happened last night, and if Jack Stein couldn't prove that it was a righteous shooting, then she was going to see to it that he eventually got the needle in a Federal prison for murdering the man she loved.

* * *

**City Hall, Sunnydale**

**A while later**

"Well, now, Darla. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Allan Finch gestured towards a chair as he sat down behind his desk. "Not that I'm unhappy to see you, of course, but I thought you'd still be celebrating after what happened last night."

"Harris is dead and gone. Now that that son of a demon worm is history, so are my celebratory feelings where he's concerned," Darla replied, sitting down.

"You want the Slayer next," Allan said with a smile, leaning back on his chair – but the effect was totally ruined by him leaning back too far, and almost toppling out of it.

Darla ignored the ridiculous display. "Can I count on your help to ruin her reputation as well? Not that she's actually got one in the human world, apart from being a complete menace to society."

"Hmm, I suppose so..." Allan then trailed off, as he held up the Orbs of Nezzla'khan to his face and listened to what their silent voice was telling him.

"What are you doing?" Darla demanded impatiently.

"You're planning to kill me after you've finally gotten rid of your soul," Allan said slowly, returning the Orbs to his belt pouch. "You're planning to kill Anya as well, for not giving you more of that Doximall when you demanded it. And while I can forgive and forget with regard to the second one, the first is just completely unforgiveable. So I'm afraid your services are now hereby terminated."

Allan whipped out a stake and launched it at Darla with all his superhuman strength – only to have it miss by over a foot, because he'd never actually practiced his aim with such a weapon. The female vampire had an expression of disbelief on her face, first darting a quick look at the stake and then staring back at Finch like he was a complete idiot.

"Ah, hell," Allan muttered with a glance at the hole in the wall where the stake went had embedded itself, and then he swiftly stood and leapt over the desk towards his vampiric enemy. "Now I've got to kill you with my bare hands!"

Too bad for him that after the fight got started, Darla – who was nobody's fool – managed to grab the Orbs away from him, and once robbed of his mystical invulnerability, Allan was the one who died instead.

"Well, well, well," Darla said cheerfully, holding the Orbs in her hands and listening to their voice in her head. "Aren't you a girl's best friend? So tell me, how do I summon this demon shaman? It can't be that easy to release my soul, just with his dark magic-"

Unfortunately for her, Anyanka chose that moment to teleport into the office – and upon seeing Allan's dead body, the vengeance demon totally lost it and screamed.

Well, actually, that was putting it way too mildly – Anyanka yelled and screeched and hollered, just like she'd done for over fourteen years in that burning prison she'd shared with Halfrek: like a damned soul trapped in her own personal hell.

Plus, unfortunately, now that her savior was gone, there were no ties left to this world for Anyanka – so the insane demoness straightaway wanted to destroy the entire planet, just like when she'd been stuck in Skip's hellish jail cell.

Every human, every vampire, and every demon above and below its surface – the hate-filled Anyanka wanted them all dead. Starting with the bloodsucker which she now felt she should have staked on sight, instead of recruiting to her and Allan's banner.

"DIE, VERMIN!" Anyanka screamed almost unintelligibly, teleporting in and out so as to kick the Orbs out of Darla's hands and deprive her of their mystical protection. Curiously, the Orbs of Nezzla'khan – their resilience fortified after being dunked within the Urn of Osiris – did not shatter under the impact of Anyanka's kick; the glass balls simply flew off and landed in a corner of the office, as the 1118-year-old vengeance demon started whaling on her opponent.

Anyanka took her time in order to properly punish Darla, turning the undead blonde's face into a bloody mess with her bare fists. It was a very nasty and drawn-out ass-kicking, with most of Darla's hair getting ripped out and her clothing getting torn to shreds.

"Any last words?" Anyanka finally asked, as she yanked Allan's stake out from the wall.

"Go to hell, you crazy bitch," the evil Darla managed to croak out through a mess of broken limbs, missing teeth and bleeding gums.

Any sane person would have replied 'You first!' or something like that. But the demented Anyanka said nothing, as her stake slammed home – and the last member of the Scourge of Europe was nothing more than ashes floating down onto the ruined, blood-stained carpet.

* * *

**City Morgue, Sunnydale**

**The same time**

The morgue attendant lay dead on the floor, a police bullet having hit him directly between the eyes. Sunnydale's chief of police, Bob, made a mental note to get rid of the evidence later; first off, he needed to take care of other business.

( _Why the hell did that damned BITCH have to stir up a hornet's nest like that, earlier this morning?_ ) Bob thought to himself with regard to Cordelia, even as he stared at Xander's corpse. ( _Now I've got to chop this guy up and grind the remains into a paste that can't be identified, not to mention arrange some sort of 'accident' for that little whore. Probably gonna have to kill her parents, too, so they can't blab whatever she's told them to the Fibbie's. Damn it, it's days like this I wish Mayor Wilkins was still around! Something like this wouldn't have happened on HIS watch..._ )

Bob hefted the axe and was about to swing downwards when he noticed the smell. It was acrid and sulfuric – just like in Buffy's Slayer dreams, a few months ago. Unfortunately for Bob, he wasn't privy to that information.

The criminally corrupt chief of Sunnydale's police force never even got a chance to scream, as Xander's body abruptly sat up – and Bob's entire universe suddenly dissolved into green fire and brief, agonizing pain.

In the corner, Whistler bore silent witness as the time for the element of Green Fire to be let loose upon Sunnydale finally arrived.

* * *

**Sunnydale High Library, Sunnydale**

**A while later**

Buffy struggled to get up off the floor, using the damaged Slayer Scythe as a crutch after her recent disastrous encounter with Anyanka.

The deranged vengeance demon had showed up here after killing Darla, planning on opening the Hellmouth and destroying the world. The battle had been a vicious one, as Anyanka had had the Orbs of Nezzla'khan with her and so had been invulnerable to physical injury. Buffy had had her hands full keeping her busy with the Scythe, whilst Giles and Willow had tried to magically attack the demoness – someone who, only now, Buffy remembered from her Slayer dream last month as being responsible for turning Darla into the enemy.

"Giles? GILES!" Buffy called out, as she helped her Watcher up. "Willow's gone! Crazy Demon Girl suddenly grabbed her and left. Are you okay?"

"Never – better," the Englishman wheezed, even though that was a bare-faced lie – it was obvious he was suffering from severe bruising and possible concussion after Anyanka's assault. "Help me-"

Unfortunately, Giles never managed to complete that sentence as the avatar for the element of Green Fire burst into the library.

"Xander-?" Buffy whispered in horror, seeing the dead teenager's face as his body burned with that horribly familiar green plasma.

"That's not – Xander, anymore. That's, that's the avatar of Green Fire," Giles gasped out, shock and wonder clearly evident in his voice as the Watcher within him both quailed in fear and excitedly tried to memorise every aspect of the being standing before him.

Giles knew that the four elements were raw power, without the ability to directly affect the mortal world; that was why they needed a human body in order to work their will. All of the elements – White Earth, Black Wind, Red Water and Green Fire – drove their avatars upon a certain course, but never before to Rupert's knowledge had the chosen vessel possessed a dead body. Giles therefore surmised, correctly as it happened, that the Green Fire element had trapped Xander's soul within his now-rotting corpse to use it as a supernatural power source – to animate the dead limbs, and, if necessary, use the mouth to communicate.

That suspicion was verified when Xander's lips opened up to speak to the Watcher and the Slayer. The language the avatar used was not English; if anything, it sounded like a mix between the crackle of fire, the roaring of wind, the crash of water onto the shore and the grinding of the earth's tectonic plates. Nonetheless, Buffy and Giles understood clearly what was being said to them.

/ _**This Hellmouth, it is active. Its taint needs to be cleansed. As it was then, so it shall be again now.**_ /

The Green Fire avatar then headed straight for the spot where the Hellmouth demon had emerged last year, when the Master had almost brought about the end of the world. Without hesitation, the dead human vessel punched its way down through the floor, burying Xander's burning arm into the earth – and then an earthquake started.

"Xander!" Buffy shouted, intending to go over and stop what she was unable to help thinking of as her friend. But Giles, weak as he was, managed to squeeze her shoulder – which stopped the Chosen One dead in her tracks.

"No. If I'm right, h-h-he's going to, to seal the Hellmouth," Giles stuttered, as the earthquake got worse. "Like, like what happened in Carthage. We, we, we need to get out of here!"

Buffy stared at him dubiously for a moment, the words of the Guardian making her wonder just how far she could trust her mentor and pseudo-father figure; but in the end, her faith in Giles won out, and she carried both the Scythe and her Watcher out of the library.

"Oh my God," Buffy said in horror, even as the entire school campus collapsed into the ground behind them with a loud roar. "Giles, look!"

Rupert nodded, as all around them Sunnydale was burning. Every building, every tree, even many of the people within eyesight were on fire. "My car..."

But all of a sudden, Cordelia's car screeched to a halt beside them.

"GET IN!" Miss Chase screamed at them, having had a vision of something truly terrible not long ago. "HURRY!"

* * *

**Kingman's Bluff, Sunnydale**

**A while later**

Willow Rosenberg was sure she was trapped in the middle of a nightmare, as she was hauled out of the Deputy Mayor's car and yanked along the empty bluff.

"Please, let me go," the redhead begged pitifully, as Anyanka roughly pulled her along. "Please-"

"Please and thank you, they're still free," Anyanka said crazily, her steel grip unable to be broken by the neophyte witch. "Too much, too much trouble to open it. Stupid portal to Hell. Easier to burn. Burn the whole world. Proserpexa's followers, they had the right idea...damn bunnies..."

The words meant nothing to Willow, apart from the 'burn the whole world' remark. She had seen Sunnydale burning on their way here, as Drusilla's final prophecy from months ago finally came to pass. "Please, I can't help you; just let me go-"

"Ta-da! Here we go," Anyanka said cheerfully as they arrived at their destination. She lifted up the Orbs to her face, and listened to whatever they were saying in her mind. Anyanka then put away the two red balls, and grabbed the top of Willow's head with her free hand. Willow instantly screamed in agony, as her potent magical core was tapped by the insane demoness.

"From the pit of forgotten shadows...awaken, Sister of the Dark...awaken and arise!" Anyanka chanted, as yet another earthquake started.

A huge steeple then began pushing out through the earth and ascending at an angle. The steeple continued to rise, as Willow saw various stone carvings decorating its surface. She also saw a large carving of a snake-haired woman with her mouth open, and a long snake-like tongue sticking out, plus another snake wrapped around her body – the demoness named Proserpexa.

Finally, the demonic temple finished rising up out of the ground, where it had been buried ever since the earthquake of 1932, and came to rest at a steep angle.

"Proserpexa. Way up there in the hierarchy of she-demons. Her followers, they intended to use her effigy to destroy the world. They all died when the temple got swallowed up," Anyanka chattered, even though Willow was in so much pain she couldn't really hear what her captor was saying.

Miss Rosenberg was then abruptly hurled away, as Anyanka stared at the demonic statue. "Proserpexa...let the cleansing fires from the depths bring about sweet, blessed death for all," the vengeance demon chanted, lifting her arms and holding up the Orbs in her hands.

Lightning crackled between Anyanka and the statue of Proserpexa. The ground began to shake harder, and the wind started to howl loudly. Even the sea water not far away began to churn and froth, as the elements rebelled against this use of dark and evil magic. Nonetheless, bolts of green light shot from Anyanka's body toward the statue; thanks to the Orbs enhancing her powers, she had managed to funnel the energy of the Earth into herself and then out towards the effigy of Proserpexa.

The effigy glowed red and the Earth shook harder than ever. The ground around the temple started to scorch in an ever-widening circle.

Luckily, Buffy, Giles and Cordelia showed up just in time and as the Slayer got in the way of the green magic, the presence of the Scythe caused the life force of the Earth to shift into reverse and head back the way it came, passing through Anyanka and into the ground where it belonged.

"AGGGGHHHHHH!" the mad demoness screamed angrily, childishly stamping her foot. "Spoil my fun, will you? Well, la-di-dah; anything you can do, I can do better! I can do anything better than you!" Anyanka yelled out the children's song lyrics.

"You are completely insane," Giles told her, leaning against Cordelia as Buffy advanced forward.

"Hey, you! Yeah, you, the vision girl. You want me to grant you a Wish, before it's the end of the world as we know it? I can feel your pain 'n all," Anyanka replied with a sudden beaming smile, staring at Cordelia.

"Don't say anything," Giles cut in even as Cordy opened her mouth. "If this truly is a Wish demon, she'll, she'll pervert your meaning into s-something pure evil-"

Buffy attacked Anyanka with the Scythe, but just like before, the vengeance demon was protected by the Orbs of Nezzla'khan. As Willow joined Giles and Cordelia, they all watched as the Slayer was tossed aside and Anyanka prepared to resume her unholy rite to destroy the planet.

/ _**STOP!**_ /

Anyanka instantly screamed like a banshee, looking around as a human body burning with green fire and running at superhuman speeds finally joined the party. The Green Fire avatar easily slapped the Orbs out of the female demon's hands, as Anyanka and the dead body of Xander Harris stared at each other for one timeless moment.

Another time, another place, one could say that these two would have been perfect for each other; but not here, and not now.

Anyanka literally exploded into flames upon being hit by the element of Green Fire, very much like Halfrek would have done in another timeline, as the untimely end of the world was averted at the very last moment.

Cordelia let go of Giles, and ran over to where the Orbs had fallen. She picked them up, and then looked over to where the avatar was standing. She was familiar with what it was, thanks to Giles' explanation on the way here.

Cordelia knew that Xander was gone; only his body was present now. That, and the element of Green Fire possessing his remains. She understood that part of it only too well.

"Damn you," Cordelia snarled at the burning corpse, as despair settled into her heart. "I want my Xander back-"

Suddenly, the scene shifted, and Cordelia was within the Bronze – despite the fact that it was nothing more than a flaming ruin now, thanks to the avatar's actions. The brunette blinked, and there was Xander – alive, and looking worried.

"Cordelia, sweetie," the young woman heard her father's voice say, as he came over and stood next to Harris. "What's Daddy's little girl been up to today?"

"Don't listen to him, Cordy. That's not your dad, any more than this is the real me," 'Xander' said urgently.

'David Chase' smiled. "A genuine American hero – he'd make the perfect husband for you one day, wouldn't he? Now, I only want what's best for you, sweetheart. So you just tell your daddy what you want, and I'll do it for you."

"I want Xa-"

"NO!" 'Xander' shouted, cutting her off. "Cordelia, please, listen to me. Don't use the Orbs of Nezzla'khan to turn me into some kinda zombie! Besides, they don't-"

/ _**They do not belong to you.**_ /

Cordelia blinked, and abruptly found herself back on Kingman's Bluff. The seer stumbled from vertigo, and almost dropped the Orbs – which had been communicating with her using the image of her father.

"Cordelia?" Giles called out in concern after seeing Xander's fiery right arm extend towards the girl in question, palm upwards.

"Just give it what it wants!" Willow cried out, turning her head so that she wouldn't have to see those milky, dead eyes staring at Queen C.

"And then what? Cordelia, throw whatever-the-hell-they-are to me, quick!" Buffy called out.

The Green Fire avatar turned to face the Slayer. / _**They do not belong to you,**_ / Xander's lips repeated in that strange, primal language of the four elements.

"Give them to him," Giles abruptly made a command decision. "Whatever those orbs truly are, most likely i-i-it's the Green Fire's destiny to destroy them."

Cordelia stood there, staring at the flame-enshrouded corpse of her almost-boyfriend. ( _Dear God, how did it come to this? Why didn't I get a vision on how to prevent all this from happening, somehow?_ ) Slowly, unsteadily, she unclenched her fingers and the Orbs slowly floated out of her grasp and into the avatar's.

/ _**It is DONE!**_ /

The unexpected burst of energy instantly hurled everyone human down to the ground. There was light and sound – so intense that the Scooby Gang had to shut their eyes and cover their ears, in order not to go blind and deaf. Only when it was safe to do, did the three American girls and the British man focus on their immediate surroundings again.

The temple of Proserpexa had completely crumpled into itself. It was burning with green fire, the various gargoyles and the pentagram at the top melting like chocolate from the sheer intensity of the heat.

"NO!" Cordelia screamed in heartfelt agony, as she saw Xander's body half-buried near the disintegrating yellow statue of Proserpexa.

"It's over. Its purpose accomplished, the Green Fire element has, has abandoned its human avatar," Giles muttered, as if he was recording a personal entry into his Watcher diary.

"Get Giles to Cordy's car over there," Buffy ordered Willow as everyone got up, before the Slayer ran over to grab Cordelia. "Come on, we gotta go!"

"No! We can't just leave him-!" Cordelia screamed at her.

"Xander's dead, and we'll die too, if we don't get outta here!" Buffy shouted, even though her heart was just as shattered as Cordelia's from Xander's loss. "COME ON!"

Very much against her will, Miss Chase was dragged to her BMW and almost on autopilot, she navigated her way towards Buffy's house to find her mother, Joyce. Against all the odds, the travelling party actually found the middle-aged Summers woman on the streets, and then Cordelia wasted no more time in getting out of town.

Sunnydale continued to burn, very much like the Great Fire of Rome. The green flames spread everywhere, destroying everything in their path despite all the efforts of the Sunnydale Fire Department to prevent it.

By the end of the day, there was only scorched earth left to indicate that a small city had once existed on this part of the southern California coast – even the buildings made out of steel and solid bricks had melted into goo, in the face of the incomprehensible deluge of supernatural fire.

Over half the town's thirty-eight thousand human residents had died. More than three-quarters of the demons – hostile and benevolent alike – had perished. More than seven-eighth's of Sunnydale's vampires had been dusted.

The California Hellmouth had been sealed...

And as the ragged survivors headed for Fondren, Oxnard or even Los Angeles, to try to recover from their terrible ordeal, somewhere in Canada – the newly humanized Anthony Harris went completely insane, due to everything he'd done as a demon for the past fourteen years.

Just as the ghost of his wife had suspected would most likely happen, should Anyanka's amulet ever be destroyed.

Still, that mattered not at all to the Powers That Be.

The world had been saved, and they still had their Champion in Buffy; so now, they were looking ahead to other, far more difficult problems lurking over the horizon.

To Be Concluded...


	17. Be Back Before Dawn

See Part One for Disclaimer and details. Hello, everybody, and welcome to the final instalment of "The Effects Of Wishful Thinking"! First off I'd just like to once again thank all my beta readers, Nodakskip, Greywizard and most especially Mr. Mysterious for all their help on this story, words cannot express the depth of my gratitude. I'd also like to personally thank all the reviewers for this fanfic, who I'm listing in order of appearance:

Wonderbee31, Maximus Prime, Memory King, Quathis, Hanzo of the Salamander, zTiamaTz, Chi Vayne, Jean-theGuardian, NarutoXYugitoFTW, red-jacobson, Wes George, Bobboky, RavenWoodbane, Loatroll, Joel Skarrie, exeafirm, Craig T, lescavanagh, Anne, iota0000, trongod, theincendiarydevice and anyone else I missed!

Well, here we are then: the end of the line for this story. It's been fun over the past month or so, especially with all the feedback, but it's definitely time to start looking towards new horizons now. New fanfic ideas that will hopefully be different to stuff I've done before. So without any further ado, I present to you...

* * *

**Part Seventeen: Be Back Before Dawn**

**A Place Where Nothing Need Be What It Seems**

**A Time Meaningless To Mortal Minds**

It appeared to be Venice Beach, but it wasn't.

Granted, it certainly looked the part – the girls dressed in skimpy bikinis roller-blading, the muscled surfers carrying their surfboards, the uniformed cops pedaling away on their bicycles, the kids playing basketball...one could easily mistake it for Los Angeles's biggest cliché, the one seen in thousands of TV series and films around the world.

But somehow, some way, Buffy Anne Summers knew something was wrong as she walked along the pier.

"Hey, Buffy. Penny for your thoughts?"

The blonde Slayer whirled around upon hearing that very familiar male voice. She subsequently stared at Xander Harris.

Only it wasn't the Xander she knew, who most likely now lay rotting – or else had become bones and ashes – outside that melted temple on Kingman's Bluff. This Xander was older, taller and most importantly, had a black patch over his left eye.

"Who are you?" Buffy asked suspiciously.

"What makes you think I'm not Xander Harris?" the one-eyed man smiled at her.

"Well, for one thing, there's your left eye; and for another, MY Xander never called me Buffy. At least, not since fifth grade," Miss Summers replied. "So tell me, who are you?"

The one-eyed Xander's smile became a lot more painful. "I'm – well, I guess ya could call me the road not taken," he replied slowly, turning to stare out over the ocean.

"Huh?" Buffy didn't get that.

"I'm the Xander Harris who never knew you, until you arrived in Sunnydale. The one who grew up on the Hellmouth instead of LA. The one who loved Willow like a sister and Jesse like a brother. The one who loved Joyce like a mother and Giles like a father. The one who loved and lost Cordelia, and then Anya as well, a few years later. The one who was part of the Slayage for seven years, even though it hasn't been that long for you – at least, not yet," Xander replied, still examining the Pacific Ocean carefully.

Buffy was starting to get a major wiggins from this guy. "Okayyyy. So why are you here?"

"You're upset. You need to talk to someone about what's happened, an outsider – someone that won't just tell you whatever it is you want to hear. The Powers That Be figured I'd be the best bet for the job," the one-eyed man shrugged, turning back to face the Summers girl.

"The Powers That Be?" Buffy spat out. "Are we talkin' about the same people who picked me to be the Slayer? Who also drafted the real Xander into the fight against evil? Who let Darla become the enemy? Who let Jesse die? Who let Ms. Calendar and her baby die? Who let the real you die, as well as nearly twenty thousand civilians? THOSE Powers That Be?"

"Yep. And you can't fool me, Buff – it's not the PTBs who you're really pissed at right now. It's yourself," Xander said calmly. "But thing is, you couldn't have stopped all that from happening. Especially what happened to my – other self."

"Yes, I could have! I could have told Giles and Willow to chant the chant and work their mojo, it might have prevented you from-"

"Why are you assuming that it's all about you? About what you did or didn't do, where your Xander was concerned?" the older Xander interrupted. "Because that other me made his own choices, after Whistler told him that Darla was gonna kill Uncle Rory and his, uh, party guests. And just so you know, no one has to worry about that female vamp anymore – Ahn killed Darla, after she killed Allan Finch. And boy – wasn't that guy a useless Big Bad wannabe, by Sunnydale standards..."

"Who's Ahn? And, and Mayor Finch was a black hat?" Buffy asked in surprise.

"Uh-huh, but getting back on topic – Buffy, I know you sometimes feel like you have the weight of the whole frigging world on your shoulders. And there's no denying you've sacrificed a lot since the day your first Watcher, Merrick, found you. But take it from someone who knows – you're not the only one who's had to give up something precious to make sure the world's still there in the morning. I mean, believe it or not – there's another Slayer named Kendra living in Jamaica right now, whose original destiny really sucked-"

"WHAT?" Buffy's eyes were as wide as saucers.

"Yeah, I figure she'll be showing up soon for you to finally meet her. And as I recall Kendra's a real stiffener, even though her Watcher raised her to be the Ultimate Fighting Slayer with the personality of a brick. She got called after you died last year, even though it was Jesse who brought you back then, instead of me," Xander smiled and shook his head.

Buffy's mind was still trying to process that as Xander went on, "Plus, you've got the Scythe now. When she's ready, Willow could activate every single Potential on the planet with that thing, make them all members of the Chosen crowd. You'd have – close to three thousand Slayers, best as I can figure it.

"And that'd certainly help against Glory," the one-eyed Xander said musingly.

"Who's Glory?" Buffy demanded straightaway, even as her mind whirled at the concept of so many Slayers existing at the same time.

"You'll find out, soon enough."

In response to her look, Xander added, "Come on, Buffster, don't look at me like that! I can't give ya all the answers up-front, on account of the Powers won't let me. Look what'll happen if I try..."

Buffy saw Xander's lips moving, but she heard nothing but silence, thanks to the one-eyed man trying to tell her things that the Powers didn't want her to know. Xander shrugged again and then continued on, "Besides – you need to be able to do some things for yourself, in order to become someone who tells the Council what to do instead of just obeying their orders like some kinda robot. Trust me; you'll see what I mean, the older you get."

"That crucial mentos thing," Buffy nodded.

"Oh, that's only the start of it. And by the way, what the Guardian said about Will and the G-man being a crutch that you don't need? Don't believe that for a second," Xander said passionately. "On account of if there's one thing you should always remember, Buff-meister, it's that you shouldn't turn your back on friends and family. I've seen where that leads – and that Buffy Summers, who was obsessed with Spike and who was willing to sacrifice anyone she had to in order to win a war? She ended up getting a really nasty wake-up call, after THIS happened," Xander gestured towards his eyepatch.

"Spike?" Buffy said with a scared look on her face. She had never forgotten that night where he and Angelus had shown up to talk to her in her dreams, and the next moment the Chosen One had an epiphany. "Wait a minute. This is another Slayer dream, isn't it?"

The one-eyed Xander smiled again. "Give my regards to Dawn."

"Dawn? Whooooooooo..." Buffy started to say, before she blinked and then bolted upright in her bed.

"Damn it," the Slayer cursed, as she switched on the light and reached for her diary to write down the details of her dream, while they were still fresh in her mind.

Once the job was done, Buffy looked around at her old bedroom. She and Joyce were currently living with Hank Summers, after fleeing to the safety of Los Angeles; the man had insisted that his ex-wife and daughter not stay at a hotel, probably out of guilt for missing Buffy's birthday last month. The domestic arrangements were more than a bit uncomfortable, given how bitter the divorce had been – but there were people who were much worse off than the Summers family, Buffy knew that.

Giles, for one.

The Englishman had lost almost everything – his books, his home, his girlfriend and even his job.

The Council had fired him for not immediately reporting what he'd learned about the latest avatar for the element of Green Fire, even though Rupert had gotten a very generous severance package in return for compiling a comprehensive report regarding what had transpired during the last days of Sunnydale.

( _Oh, phooey. I don't want another Watcher,_ ) Buffy decided as she switched off the light and lay down in the darkness. She stared upwards at the ceiling and thought to herself, ( _I've already lost so much, I don't want to lose Giles, too. That...other Xander, he was right; I need my friends. Giles, Willow and maybe even Cordelia. Plus my mom and dad. I guess I need everyone I can get, in order to survive this gig for as long as possible. Without them, everything would be..._ )

Buffy finally broke down and cried, for the first time since Sunnydale went the way of the dodo. She mourned the loss of a male friend who could have become so much more, the loss of thousands of innocent people, and most of all, she mourned her own final piece of lost innocence.

* * *

**Makeshift refugee camp, southern California**

**February 24th, 1998**

The social worker named Doris hadn't slept for nearly forty-eight hours, and the strain was definitely beginning to show.

The middle-aged woman – someone whose case load would have included 'Dawn Summers' a few years down the line – had been one of the survivors of the Great Fire of Sunnydale, as the press was now calling it. Burdened with an acute sense of responsibility, she had stayed at this refugee camp instead of heading for civilization, trying to do what she could to help the children who had lived through the fiery devastation.

It wasn't easy. Nearly half the kids here had severe burns, and there simply weren't enough doctors and nurses to go around. Many were lying on the ground, moaning in pain; some were wandering around, looking for parents and loved ones. The scene was utterly heart-breaking but, even though Doris and the others didn't know it, it could have been a lot worse.

The entire planet could easily have been a black, lifeless cinder floating in space right now.

Wandering around, Doris spotted a male teenager who seemed to be walking in a complete daze. The remains of the shirt he was wearing was torn and matted with dried blood, and he was clutching something tightly in his right hand. He looked like he needed immediate help...

So, Doris went up to him and said, "Hi. What's your name?"

The boy just stared at her, so Doris continued on, "Do you need a doctor? I have some food, if you like-"

"Where am I?" the dark-haired young man cut her off.

"Not far outside the remains of Sunnydale," Doris replied. "Are you okay?"

"Okay? I don't – wait, are you telling me this isn't the afterlife?"

( _Damn it, he must be even more traumatized than I thought!_ ) "No, sweetie, it's not. Um, have we met? You, you look kinda familiar..." Doris said, straining to remember where she'd seen his face before.

"Am I really alive?" the male teen asked, looking around at all the tents and the suffering people.

"Yes, of course-"

"But I-I wasn't. That cop – he shot me. He killed me," Xander said slowly, before he opened up his hand and looked at the broken remains of the Orbs of Nezzla'khan; which had brought him back to life.

Doris felt her eyes go wide as she immediately backed off.

She recognized Harris now; like Cordelia, she had seen his face on TV two days ago before Sunnydale had been consumed by the element of Green Fire. The social worker had temporarily forgotten about the murders that had been a big news story, well – before the utter destruction of the Hellmouth, and the deaths of countless thousands of people; but now, the memories came rushing back.

Retreating slowly, the woman then turned and raced off to get help – but when Doris returned with one of the state cops who had been sent here to maintain order within the camp, Xander was nowhere to be found.

* * *

**Somewhere in the desert, southern California**

**Many hours later**

Xander finally stopped running, after finding a small cave within a ditch he could use to spend the night in comparative safety.

Fortunately for his sanity, Xander didn't remember anything concrete after being killed by Detective Stein – someone who had failed to survive the inferno that had annihilated Sunnydale, just like Oz, Amy and Lance Brooks. There were only jagged and broken shards of vague feelings and indistinct sensations, after that hail of deadly bullets had ended Xander's life.

At the time, though – his soul had felt like it had been trapped within a fetid slime pit. Like his essence, everything that made up the person known as Alexander Lavelle Harris, had been buried underneath a sea of starving, gnawing rats. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't scream and he couldn't escape his own dead body.

Had Xander been able to remember it clearly, it would have given brand new meaning to the term 'nightmare'.

( _I'm alive,_ ) Harris thought to himself once again, as he huddled alone in his cave. ( _I was dead, but now I'm alive. How the hell is that possible?_ )

Xander then stared at the shattered remains of the Orbs in his hand, before flinging them away into the depths of the cave. He had no idea what they were, despite that conversation his soul had had with Cordelia on Kingman's Bluff – and now, he wanted nothing to do with the red pieces of glass any longer.

( _I'm alive,_ ) Harris repeated the mantra once again. ( _That's what's important, right? And I don't – I don't feel like a monster, like I don't have any overwhelming urge to go out and eat people's brains or something. Plus, I'm obviously not a vampire, because hello, standing in the sunlight earlier on. Huh. I wonder..._ )

Xander took off the remains of his shirt, and examined his right arm. And not entirely to his surprise, his Special Forces tattoo – the skull and crossbones, plus the green beret – was gone. The flesh was clean and unmarked, like the events of Halloween had never taken place.

( _A second chance,_ ) Harris thought to himself slowly, as he put the shirt back on and left the cave to search for some firewood for later in the evening – he knew that the desert got very cold at night, and that a fire would be needed. ( _I've been given a second chance at life by...someone, or something. I'm alive, and I'm still me. Only question is, what now?_ )

That question continued to haunt Xander throughout the night and well into the next day, as he slowly made his way south towards Los Angeles; the closest thing to 'home' his tired and damaged psyche could come up with.

* * *

**UCLA campus, Los Angeles**

**June, 1998**

Willow was in a fairly happy mood, as she made her way towards the student union building. She'd been invited to visit the campus by the university board – who had an associate within the company that had tried to recruit both Willow and Oz during Career Week – in order to woo the redhead into pursuing higher education here, in about a year's time.

( _It's too bad how Buffy and her mom moved to Cleveland, and Giles went back to England,_ ) Willow thought to herself as she walked along. ( _But there's no way my parents would have willingly moved to that part of the country. And I still can't get over how the Council was so pissed about that Green Fire thing, it went all out in getting Giles's green card revoked! Well, either that or they really didn't want him interfering with that new Watcher, Wesley whatever-his-name-was. Sheesh, I can't believe Cordelia actually started flirting with that guy before he left town..._ )

"Oh! Excuse me, I-I-I'm s-s-s-so s-s-sorry," a young woman with dirty-blonde hair stammered in apology, as she bumped into Willow.

The redhead shook her head, "It was my fault, I wasn't watching where I was going. Totally off into space girl, that's me! Here, lemme help you with those papers..." Willow babbled as she knelt down to gather the documents strewn all over the floor.

"Th-th-thanks," the college girl stammered, and then her eyes went wide as a spark of lightning erupted for a moment when hers and Willow's hands touched. "OH!"

"What was that?" Willow asked, taking a step backwards. She eyed the other girl carefully, "'Cause it felt like magic. A, a real special kind of magic..."

"It was," the blonde Wiccan nodded, calming down and losing the terrible stammer. "I, I haven't experienced anything like that since my mother died. Have you been practicing long?"

"No, I – wait, where are my manners? Hi, I'm Willow Rosenberg," the high school girl introduced herself.

"Tara Maclay," the older witch replied, and the rest was pre-ordained history.

* * *

**Milano's Italian Kitchen, Los Angeles**

**August, 1998**

( _What the hell am I doing here? Stupid visions, I should just ignore them,_ ) Cordelia grumbled to herself as she ate her evening meal within the restaurant. ( _I mean, sure, the food's not bad – but it's hardly what I'm used to!_ )

The brunette had been forced to get used to a lot of things after the destruction of Sunnydale, actually. A new home, a new life in a new city with only Harmony for company, at first; for the buxom blonde had been the lone Cordette to join her at West Beverly High School.

But then, Cordelia hadn't been the Queen of Sunnydale High for nothing and she had made nice progress in climbing to the top of West Beverly High's social pyramid. The notoriety arising from being a Sunnydale survivor had actually helped, even if her parents had decided to head for Europe and basically left her behind to fend for herself – with only the hired help for company in their new Beverly Hills mansion.

Still, on the bright side, there were shoes. And lots and lots of heavenly shoe shops for Cordelia to shop at, all the way along Rodeo Drive – which definitely helped her cope with the loneliness.

Unfortunately, the old Sunnydale weirdness refused to leave her alone, which had led the Chase girl to coming here for dinner tonight.

"Waiter! The check, please!" Cordelia ordered loudly as soon as her meal was finished. She quickly paid the bill and then marched out the front door, heading towards her car parked at the rear of the restaurant.

And that was when she heard the voice she never thought she'd hear again.

"This is great! A lot of hungry people are going to appreciate this, sir. Thank you; you're doing God's work here," Xander said to the busboy as he and some others loaded boxes of leftovers into the truck owned by one Charles Gunn, street kid and vampire fighter extraordinaire.

"Toss it up, brother. Alright!" the black teenager named Rondell said to Xander, before turning towards Gunn. "I figure, we're ready to roll-"

"XANDER?"

Everyone turned to stare at the classy, dark-haired female teen who was staring at Harris like she was seeing a ghost. The male responses ranged from admiration to sheer lust, with Xander the only one who was able to resist thinking with his dick at the mere sight of Miss Chase.

"You know this girl, dog?" Gunn asked Xander in surprise, after getting his hormones under control.

"Yeah, I do. Hey, Cordy, I wasn't expecting to see you here-" Xander started to say.

"This is impossible! You're DEAD!" Cordelia exclaimed, looking as white as a sheet.

"We got a problem here, Harris?" Gunn wanted to know, narrowing his eyes as he stared suspiciously at the newest member of his gang.

"No problem, Gunn," Xander said swiftly, as he went to grab Cordelia by the arm. "'Scuse me a second, this won't take long..." He pulled his brunette acquaintance along to somewhere private, not far away. "Look, Cordelia-"

"How can you be alive? I saw your dead body outside that temple on Kingman's Bluff six months ago! What the hell..." Cordelia said, still unable to believe what her eyes and ears were telling her.

"Kingman's Bluff? Cordelia, after I was shot in my house that night by that asshole Stein – and believe me, I was SO glad when I heard he got what was coming to him the next day! – I woke up in some refugee camp," Xander said, staring at his former classmate carefully. "I don't know anything about any temple, or whatever it is you're talking about."

"You don't?" Cordelia asked him, now beginning to suspect that he was the real deal. "So, so, you don't remember stopping that crazy demon girl either, the one that wanted to destroy the world? You don't remember-" Cordy cut herself off before saying that Xander – or rather the element of Green Fire controlling his corpse – had burned down Sunnydale and killed thousands of people.

"Crazy demon girl? No. So, uh, what happened exactly?" Xander demanded.

"Never mind that right now! What I want to know is – damn it, mister, where the hell have you been since February?" Cordelia semi-snarled, having finally become a true believer.

"Lots of different places – Culver City, Pershing Square, Olympic Boulevard. Thing is, I haven't contacted you or anyone else in the old Sunnydale gang 'cause (a), I didn't know you were in town, and (b), I've been busy looking for Ford. And that damn bitch Darla, of course, even though I figure the odds are she never made it out of Sunnydale-"

"You couldn't be bothered picking up the phone and telling ME that you'd come back from the dead?" Cordelia shouted; she couldn't believe this! She had spent six months in mourning for this guy – well, apart from some precious moments spent with a handsome, refined young Englishman – and now, it turned out that the dorkhead had been alive and kicking all along?

Cordelia's right hand slapped Xander viciously across his left cheek. "Xander Harris – of all the no-good, inconsiderate, lousy things to do! You bastard, I oughta..."

She wound up to slap him again, but this time, Xander caught her right hand in his left. Then, when Cordy went to slap him with her left hand, he caught that one with his right.

"Let go of me, you asshole!" Cordelia started struggling in Xander's grasp.

"Not until you calm down!" Harris retorted, his cheek still stinging.

"I'll show you 'calm down', you jerk!" Miss Chase tried to knee him in the groin, a strike which Xander only barely avoided.

"For God's sake, Cordelia! Why the hell are you acting like this?" Xander honestly didn't get why the seer was so upset.

"I already told you back on Valentine's Day, you moron! I LOVE YOU!" Cordelia screeched, before grabbing Xander's head and plunging her lips onto his.

Harris was initially too stunned to do anything; but as the kiss deepened, he instinctively took Cordelia into his arms as their tongues battled fiercely and passionately, struggling to win a fight in which quarter was neither asked for nor given.

It felt so right to her. So utterly perfect, even. Thus, naturally enough, that was precisely when Cordelia had another vision.

A vision of Dawn Summers calling Joyce 'mom' and Buffy 'butthole' within their new house in Cleveland. The living energy known as the Key would soon be molded into human flesh and sent to the Slayer for protection, by an order of monks in Eastern Europe. This was because, due to the ripple effect arising from Sunnydale's destruction – Glory, or the hellgod Glorificus as she was otherwise known, had been able to get free from her prison named Ben a few years earlier than it otherwise would have happened.

Cordelia didn't know it yet, but she would soon be on her way to Ohio for her senior year of high school.

So, too, would Xander, with a new name and a new academic history which Willow would set up for him.

The vampire that had once been Billy 'Ford' Fordham would eventually follow his former best friend to Cleveland, after Willow, Tara, Kendra and her Watcher, Sam Zabuto, chased Ford out of the City of Angels.

And as the kiss between Xander and Cordelia ended, the young man felt a burning sensation on his right arm as his Special Forces tattoo reappeared – thanks to the Powers That Be deciding to give him his old job back.

An avatar for the element of Green Fire had taken out some of Glory's peers roughly two thousand years ago, after all, and by now Xander's 'street cred' had been firmly established amongst those so-called higher beings.

So, as far as Whistler was concerned, as he watched Xander and Cordelia from his place in one of the higher dimensions...

...all this was merely the end – of the beginning.

The End


End file.
